Birmingham
by leogal063
Summary: Nora always knew that her past would catch up with her. It was never a question of if but when. When would her careful planning be not enough, when would the lies crumble like a house of cards its foundation unable to support the lives perched upon it?
1. Run away child

_Disclaimer: This is fanfiction. If i owned LWD, i wouldn't be writing this_

_Warning: This is not a happy-go-lucky story. It deals with abuse and it's after effects. So be forewarned. Flames will be met with marshmallows. If you have experience with abuse i.e.- researching it or God-forbid living through it and you think that the character's reactions are too OOC you can e-mail me. But remember, if you flame me i will make s'mores. And i wont share. _

_Summary: A secret threatens to tear apart the MacDonald-Venturi clan forever.  
_

Rosemarie glanced around her tiny apartment, checking to make sure she got everything, that she had turned the oven off, peering into her purse to make sure the envelope was there. She drew in a shuddering breath, turning to the mirror for what felt like the thousandth time to check her appearance. She wasn't sure if she liked the woman staring back at her, the pale face, the haunted eyes. She tore her eyes away from the mirror and looked at the clock, 9:42 the bright green lights told her. 9:42 and time to go. She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder and placed a trembling hand on the doorknob. She was suddenly frozen with fear, a million thoughts running through her mind

'_What if I can't do this, what if he finds us, what if what if what if.'_

'_Stop it!'_ she commanded her mind, forcing the bile the threatened to spill out onto her threadbare carpet back down. She had sacrificed too much to this man, she wasn't going to sacrifice her babies. She straightened her shoulders and turned the doorknob all the while keeping the images of her babies in her mind. Her legs moved on autopilot, passing the peeling paint in the hallway and the water-stained ceiling tiles. She felt a small wave of rage wash over her as she said farewell to the building she had called home, rage that her good for nothing husband had stripped her of everything. He had stolen her money, her career, her dreams, her trust in people. But she wasn't going to let him steal her babies. She had promised Natasha that she would take them away and she wasn't going to break her promise. Not again.

So she let the rage wash over her, clung to it like a drowning woman. At least it made her feel connected to her body while before she had felt like she was watching someone else's life unfold. She snapped out of her thoughts as she felt the hot humid Houston air surround her, the heat already making her body feel sticky. She paused at the mailbox, hearing the muffled _'thump'_ as her package fell to the bottom. She nodded to one of her neighbours as she turned to her car, feeling yet another nail being driven into the coffin of her old life. The anticipation strengthened, creating a vice around her heart as she drove towards her old home, to where she had lived as a prisoner in a crystal palace. She took the exit that would lead her to her old home but changed course halfway there. She drove downtown, towards the rougher part of town. Slowing down she drove down the road, finally picking a parking spot. She killed the engine and paused, offering a silent prayer to whomever was listening to forgive her of this heinous act and to make sure everything went smoothly.

"Sorry Bernice. I wish I could give you a proper send-off to proper owners. But I have no choice. You understand, don't you?" She waited for a moment, then rolled her eyes. Did she really expect a car to answer back? Maybe she was crazy, like he said.

'_NO!'_ He was wrong. She was a beautiful, warm, loving person who deserved to be loved. Remembering what she had learned at her meetings, the encouraging words about her own worth, she rolled the window down an inch and left the car. She had been assured that the car would be stolen by nightfall. It wasn't if her information had come from anyone. Ricardo had been stealing cars since he could walk. She scanned the street, looking for the cheap car that Ricardo had purchased for her escape. She spotted that man waiting half a block away, near their agreed spot. She opened the door and slid onto the cracked upholstery.

"Your late" he remarked as he sipped from his coffee cup.

"Not by much" she replied

"Much can mean the difference between freedom and prison." He reminded her as he turned on the engine. "It's my ass on the line too you know."

"I know." she quietly replied as she turned to study the Hispanic man. Ricardo Perez had been in and out of Juvie since he was 14, and was a private detective who was willing to help out a desperate woman-for a price. And she had paid every cent he had asked for. While her husband has taken most everything, he hadn't taken her jewellery. She had sold most, the I'm-sorry-I-pushed-you emerald ring, the sorry-for-the-black-eye ruby earrings, the forgive-me-for-breaking-your-arm diamond necklace. There were so many she had been surprised at the amount she got for them, feeling revolted and disgusted with herself for accepting each and every one, accepting his promises to change, to get better. What a fool she had been. She normally wouldn't have trusted a man like Ricardo, with his slick voice and piercing eyes but she had trusted the All-American boy with charming looks and a sweet smile and look where that had gotten her. She had been promised that he could be trusted, though she wondered if she would ever be able to trust another man again.

"Pardon?" she asked as she realized that he was talking to her.

"I asked if you mailed it" he glared at her.

"Yes."

"Was it on?"

"Yes and I charged it last night so the battery will last for a long time."

"And did you get the map?"

"Yes, and the hotel room."

"What did you register it under?"

"My middle and maiden name."

"Will he know this?"

"Yes."

Satisfied with her answers he turned back to the road. The silence was deafening as the blood pounded in her ears and all she could hear was her frantically beating heart. Too soon they pulled onto a rarely travelled road and then parked in the woods. She scanned the area, frantically looking for the other car.

"Whe-where are they?" she asked panicked. Had he found out about her plan, had he taken the girls away, was Ricardo going to betray her and kill her and leave her body in the woods where no one would find her and she would never be able to see her girls again? All these thoughts and more swarmed in her head and her breathing became shallower and her body felt like it was going to jump out of her skin.

"Relax, they'll be here." He tilted his head back and closed his eyes while she scanned the area, waiting for the other car. After what seemed like forever but was probably only a minute she heard the other car pull up. She raced up to the car as fast as she could move and had her hand on the car door before the driver pulled to a complete stop. She drank in the sight of her babies sleeping peacefully in the backseat, Natasha with her brown hair pulled into a ponytail and her head resting on her shoulder and Juliana with her mouth puckered and her body twitching every now and then, active even in her sleep.

"My babies." she breathed as she reached into the car.

"Your late." she heard Ricardo murmur to Fiona.

"He was running late. He didn't leave the house on time so I had to rush to make it."

"Women." Ricardo muttered as he went to the trunk and opened it.

She frowned as she noticed that neither Natasha nor Juliana seemed to be waking up. She turned to Fiona.

"What's wrong with them?"

"I put some cold syrup in their juice." Fiona casually replied as she transferred one of the suitcases to the car she and Ricardo had arrived in.

"What!" she exclaimed, then repeated in a quieter voice as both Ricardo and Fiona shushed her. "what?"

"It'll be easier if their quiet. We don't need to be tending to them when we're trying to get everything ready. Don't worry." Fiona reassured her as she saw the panic stricken look on her face. "I just put enough in to get them drowsy, not enough to keep them asleep. They'll wake up soon enough." A part of her knew that what her friend was saying was true, that it would be easier if the girls were asleep for at least this part, but the mother in her wanted to scream at Fiona for doing this to her girls without her permission.

She felt her insides twist and constrict as she unhooked Natasha's car seat from the car, as she stared down at the fading bruises, the broken arm and twisted leg. How had it come to this, that she was running from all she knew, from her family and her friends, relying on the kindness of strangers whose lives would be ruined if they were caught? Ricardo would lose his job, Fiona would lose her daughter, and she, she would lose her daughters to a monster, never to hear their laughter, to see their smiles, to watch them as they slept. If the world was good, if the world was just she wouldn't have to run and break all ties with her former life. But sometimes the hero dies; sometimes the princess marries the ogre; sometimes happily ever after is a lie. She clicked the restraints on Juliana's car seat and straightened up.

"What are you doing?" she asked Ricardo. He peered over from where he crouched by the bumper of the car. As she moved behind him she noticed that he was unscrewing the licence plate.

"Changing the licence plate." he answered as if she was blind. He sighed, and then answered her unspoken question.

"This way, it'll be harder for them to track you. Here." He tossed a bag to her. She opened it to find about five different plates in it. "Change it every now and then, but only when it's night. Never during the day. When you get to Ontario sell the car to a guy named Cuyo Enprimero. I wrote his address down for you. If you get caught, please destroy it. He won't be too happy if the police come knocking on his door. Anyways." he straightened up "He'll be able to get you what you need. Birth certificates, social security numbers, drivers license. Whatever. If he gives you trouble tell him I sent you. But you shouldn't have a problem."

She sighed, imagining the extra costs. "What do I owe you?"

"Nothing." Her head snapped up, startled. He had been very insistent that he had a set price and if couldn't pay it to go and find someone else.

"Why?" she managed to force past her stunned lips, her brain trying to come up with an answer to this puzzle.

"Because."

"Because why?" He sighed, then turned to look at her.

"Because my old man was like your ex. I can only wish that my mom had done for me what your doing for your kids. Maybe I could have done something with my life. Been a doctor or a lawyer. Something respectable." He paused, lost in his thoughts for a moment, then shrugged and turned to walk away when she called him back.

"You better leave before I change my min-"

"Could you do me one last favour?" he raised one eyebrow while waiting for her request. "Could…could you give this note to my parents? I need to let them know why I'm doing this." He looked like he was going to refuse so she continued in a rush "Don't worry, there's nothing incriminating in here. I just want to say good bye."

He stared at the envelope that she held in her outstretched hand for a moment, then gave what might be considered a hint of a smile and took the letter from her hand. She smiled and mouthed _'thank you'_ as she slid into the passenger seat. As the car pulled away she watched as he raised his hand in good bye and slowly slipped from view.

She clenched and unclenched her hands as they lay folded on her lap, eyes' darting as if expecting the police or her husband to suddenly pop up and take her girls away. It had been about a nerve-wracking half hour into their escape when she heard soft noises coming from the back seat. She twisted in her chair to watch Natasha stretch and rub her eyes, confusion over her surrounding etched on her face until her eyes fell on her mother.

"Momma?" she questioned, hope radiating from her face "Momma, is that you?"

"Yes sweetie." she smiled as she ran her thumb down Natasha's face "Yes it's me. And I'm taking you away."

"Yea!" she exclaimed, tossing her hands in the air. Her shouting woke up Juliana, who glared at her sister and then burst into tears.

"Oh baby, it's okay. Momma's here don't cry." she said as she frantically looked for something to calm her down. She shock a rattle in front of her face and Juliana stopped howling long enough to narrow her eyes at her mother and inspect the distraction before her cubby little hand snatched the peace offering and began banging it on the car seat.

"Momma?"

"Yes honey?"

"Are we going far away?"

"Very far away"

"And Daddy's never gonna find us, right?"

Her heart contracted at these words, that her daughter's only concern was that her father would never find them. She gave a small smile. "Yes" she reassured her "So far away Daddy's never gonna find us.

"Good" she nodded her head, her brown hair flying around her face. "I love you Momma."

"I love you too sweetheart"

It was about four hours into their drive. Her body was starting to ache from sitting down for so long and her butt had fallen asleep almost an hour ago. They had fed the girls which wasn't an easy task in a moving vehicle, but they didn't risk stopping. Juliana had thankfully fallen asleep again, but Natasha was still awake.

"Momma, I'm booooorrreeeddd." she whined.

"Do you wanna colour?"

"Noooooooo." She sighed. It was amazing that her six year old daughter could draw out the words to make them seem twice as long than they actually were. The excitement of running away had worn off and she was realizing that it was hard to occupy a bored child in a car. She heard Fiona sigh in exasperation. Their nerves were shot and tending to two small children was not helping matters.

"Give her this." Fiona held her wallet in front of her face. "Just make sure she doesn't wreck anything." She passed the wallet to her daughter, who grabbed the new toy and immediately started rifling through it. They had about five blissful minutes of silence when she heard Natasha's questioning voice call her name.

"Momma, what's this?" She turned and realized the Natasha had pulled out the money from the wallet.

"It's money, put it back. We don't want to lose any of it."

Natasha ignored her mother and instead studied the bills.

"It doesn't look like money. Why does it look funny?"

"It's Canadian money, now put it back."

"Whose that?"

"Natasha" she said in a warning voice, "put it back."

"Whose that?"

She sighed, and then rubbed her temples. It was at times like this that she wished that Natasha had a mute button. She always had to ask questions, and never stopped asking until you answered.

"Who honey"

"The lady?" Natasha answered matter-a-factly. "On the money"

She leaned over and looked at the bill in her daughter's hand. "That's the Queen"

"Of what?" she heard Fiona give a soft chuckle and she glared at her.

"England." Natasha looked satisfied so she turned back in her seat to watch the road. But not a minute had passed before she heard the familiar whine.

"Momma, I'm boooooooorreeeeddd." She turned back to her daughter, knowing that she had to distract her or she'd never be quiet.

"Do you want to play a game?" Natasha energetically nodded, her hair flying around her face.

"Alright, you know how we're leaving. Well, to make sure Daddy doesn't find us we have to use a new name." Her daughter's forehead furrowed as she tried to get the point of the game. "So what I want you to do is think of a new name for Juliana, okay?"

Natasha's eyes light up as she asked "Like pretend?"

"Yes, just like pretend." Thinking she'd figured out a way to occupy her oldest she turned around but heard Natasha call her back.

"Yes?" she said through gritted teeth. Next time they stopped for gas she was getting some aspirin. And some cold medicine. The drowsy kind.

"What's the Queen's name?"

"Elizabeth."

Natasha nodded solemnly. "That should be Jules name."

"Alright, what name do you want?" This time Natasha took longer in picking a name. Finally she responded. "Cassandra."

"Cassandra?" Natasha nodded.

She hated doing this, but she knew that their names needed to be changed. "Alright, repeat after me. Hello, my name is Cassandra MacDonald, my sister's name is Elizabeth and my mommy's name is Nora."

"Hello, my name is Cassandra Ma-ma-cDonald, my sister's name is Elizabeth and my mommy's name is Nora." She cringed inside as she heard the Texas accent slip from her daughter's lips. She would have to work on getting rid of it, but now she needed to get Nat-_Cassandra _to remember the new names.

"Say it again honey." she prompted her daughter.

Always trying to please her mother Cassandra repeated the phrase that would alter thier lives forever. "Hello, my name is Cassandra MacDonald, my sister's name is Elizabeth and my mommy's name is Nora. Hello, my name is Cassandra MacDonald, my sister's name is Elizabeth and my mommy's name is Nora. Hello, my name is…"

_AN: I was going to continue from there but the chapter was too long. So i do have chapter 2 written and i will post soon. And i know that Fiona was a bit OOC but this was written before i saw 'The Wedding'. She will still be annoying, just not AS annoying. And I'm going to need character names, so this is where you the reader come in. The name **Cuyo Enprimero **is not a real name. The first person who translates it into english gets to name a charcter, or i will be forced to translate words into other languages and use them. So review. or not. whatever._


	2. The wolf is upon you

_Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own it _

_AN: Okay, this chapter was supposed to be combined with the last one, so just pretend that it left off with casey memorizing her new name. ENJOY! _

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"Casey says 'But if there were already Natives living in North America, then saying that Christopher Columbus found America would be incorrect because there were already people living there." Derek said, imitating a shrill high voice.

"Oh, I sooo don't sound like that!" Casey spat back at her step-brother.

"Whatever." he dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand "Anyways, so then Mr. Connerie says" he started to imitate their history teacher but was cut off by Casey's holler.

"Do NOT whatever me."

"Do NOT cut me off."

"Why, did I bruise poor little Derek's ego?" Sam snorted into his food at this, and Derek slid his eyes over to view his soon to be ex-best-friend.

"Thanks for the help man."

"Anytime." Sam replied as he slapped Derek on the back.

"So then what happened?" Edwin asked, practically bouncing out of his chair in a vain hope that he could hear the end of the story before his show came on.

"Do not continue." Casey warned Derek as she pointed her fork at him as if this would make him stop.

"Or what, you'll bore me to death with another manifesto?"

"What manifesto?" Emily asked confused. She knew her friend was weird but a manifesto?

"Don't ask," Lizzie rolled her eyes "Or we're never going to hear the end of the story."

"Lizzie!" Casey exclaimed in shock at her sister's betrayal "You're supposed to be on my side!"

"Sorry" she shrugged "It just seems like a really interesting story."

"Thank you Lizzie." Derek turned to Casey "May I continue?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "If I said no, would you stop?"

"Mmm, no. So anyways, Mr. Connerie says…"

As Derek continued his story, Nora looked over the dinner table to catch her husband's eye. He smiled at her and winked, laughing over the secret joke that they were having a dinner like a 'normal' family. It had been over a year since the MacDonalds had moved into the Venturi household. They had a rocky start, but the bumps were slowly being smoothed out. Sure Derek and Casey still fought, but the daily shouting matches had evolved into bickering that at times seemed almost lighthearted. Almost. Lizzie and Edwin had completely accepted the new blended family and were often each other's backup when Derek or Casey tried to boss one of them around. And Marti was well, Marti. She still thought she was a cat and had cried when Nora had accidentally sucked up Daphne with the vacuum cleaner, to which Marti said Daphne would only forgive Nora if she got a bowl of ice cream. So while the house was chaotic and Nora and George sometimes entertained the idea of shipping them off to boarding school, they knew they wouldn't change it for the world. Most of the time.

But as Nora looked around the dinner table, she still felt the need to pinch herself to prove that this was reality. Derek sat to her right, energetically telling his story while imitating Casey and their history teacher. Sam sat beside him, nodding his head in agreement to Derek's story and adding in things that Derek forgot. Casey sat across from Derek, glaring at him for daring to repeat her current school humiliation but Nora saw her daughter's lips twitch every now and then in an almost-smile at Derek's dramatic retelling. Emily was sitting beside Casey, alternating between worried looks that her friend might reach across the table and try to stab Derek with her fork and girlish adoration at her crush. Lizzie sat beside Emily, shaking her head at the fact that Casey had felt it was necessary to once again correct the teacher. Marti sat beside George trying to build a volcano out of her mashed potatoes, having lost interest in her brother's story once she found out it had nothing to do with aliens. George sat across from Nora, alternating between playing referee and pressing Derek to continue. Edwin sat beside Sam, listening intently to Derek's story so he'd be able to write it down later. For what Nora had no idea but it kept him quiet so she didn't complain. Nora loved her family, though she sometimes felt guilty that she was lying to her husband every day. But she couldn't risk being caught. She had survived ten years with this secret and she would survive ten more if it meant that she was able to keep her family safe.

But like some famous dead guy said, all good things must come to an end. And this end came in the form of the doorbell ringing. Both Nora and George stared at the door then at each other, confusion in both their faces.

"Could that be either one of your parents?" George directed the question to Emily and Sam, only to get a negative from both. As the doorbell rang again both Nora and George moved to answer it.

"I'll get it." George said to Nora, pressing his hand on her shoulder and kissing her cheek as he passed. If he had known what was on the other side of the door he would have given her more than a small peck. He would have swept her up into his arms and given her one of those romance-book kisses, the ones that make time stop and the world spin. Or he would of told her how much he loved her, how everyday he was amazed that she, a classy uptown sort of girl, would have chosen to marry him, a poor lawyer with three unruly kids and a mortgage and hadn't run screaming from the house yet. Or he simply would have held her, breathing in her scent, a mixture of perfume and pine trees which either came from the air freshener she sprayed around the house or the disinfectant she used to clean. It was an odd combination but intoxicating and completely Nora and he loved it and her. But he had no idea that their fragile existence was about to be shattered so he did none of these things, simply kissing her cheek as she smiled at him before she turned back to tell Marti not to feed her mashed potatoes to her stuffed bear. George moved towards the door, peering through the peep hole to see what looked like four people standing on his porch.

"Yes?" he questioned as he opened the door. The cold November air rushed into the house, making him instantly shiver though later he would wonder if it really was the cold or the solemn faces staring back at him. "May I help you?"

"Is this the Venturi residence?" one of the cops asked.

"Yes." he answered slowly, feeling a sudden need to block his family from the people on the porch. He could hear laughter come from the table at Derek's shrill imitation of Casey arguing her point, though he suddenly couldn't remember what it was about.

"We have an arrest warrant for a Rosemarie Delany." the other cop said. George shook his head as he started to close the door "There's no one by that name who lives here." He was stopped by the cops' next words.

"Is there a Nora MacDonald?" George stared back at the cops, taking then in. The one who had spoken first had creamy black skin, not dark but not light, and even though she looked small he had the distinct impression that he would not like to meet her in a dark alley. The second was an older white man, with a beard flecked with grey and pity that seemed to radiate from him. George's eyes drifted past him as he looked at a young woman who looked like she had been somewhere warm recently as her skin was tanned and covered with freckles. The last was an older oriental woman who was holding a huge binder and looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but there.

"Georgie? Whose at the door?" he heard come from over his shoulder as he was snapped out of his trance. He turned to look at his wife, her innocent expression and wondering eyes.

"Nora MacDonald?" the woman cop asked.

"Venturi." Nora replied as George's need to protect his family kicked in.  
"Nora, I think you sho-"

"Nora Venturi, you're under arrest for the kidnapping of Natasha and Juliana Delany." the male cop said as their perfect white picket fence world came crashing down around their feet.

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_AN: Dum, Da DUM DUM. Betcha you didn't see that coming. Or maybe you did. whatever. special thanks goes out to JanetBanana, CEE18, Ghostwriter and ChocoholicMonkeyfish for being the only people who reviewed. And since no one really cared Cuyo En primero means 'whose on first' in Spanish. If you haven't seen this skit by Abbot and Costello, watch it. It is hilarious and you can use the lines the bug your family and friends. Oh, and Connerie means 'bullshit' in French._ _ And so you guys (or girls) wont get confused, the Macdonalds are going to be referred to with the names they use on LWD. People are going to call them by their old names every now and then, so tell me it get's confusing and I will post the names beside each other at the beginning of each chapter._


	3. Authors note

Alright, I think this is against the rules but it's either do this or e-mail everyone who reviewed and I'm far to lazy for that. My family has two computers (a slow one and a fast one) and the fast one has broken down. Coincidently, the next chapter was on that computer. I have the story printed out but right now I don't feel like retyping it out when the problem could be fixed soon (I hope.) So for the time being the story is on hiatus. If my computer is down for more than say, two weeks I will retype it out and post it but for now this is all you get.

I also want to take the time to broach a question to you guys (girls, whatever). Someone has told me that my summary well, stinks. I can't think of a new one that sounds even remotely good. So I took a quote from my story (and it's from chapter 3, so it's a bit of a teaser) and I was wondering what you people think of it as a summary.

"Nora had always known that her past would catch up with her. It was never a question of if but when. When would her careful planning be not enough, when would the lies crumble like a house of cards, its foundation not strong enough to support the lives that perched upon it?

I like it, but I am open to suggestions from anyone who wants to take a stab at a summary.

I would also like to take the time to apologize to anyone who read my author's note from chapter 2. I'm sure the first thing that popped into your heads was 'Would you like some cheese with that whine?' I was trying to be sarcastic because I know that there are many people who are reading this story who aren't reviewing for whatever reason because I read lots of stories and don't review. Turns out sarcasm doesn't translate too well into writing. Next time I'll just say that I'm being sarcastic. Or just stop writing so much. Whatever. So I hope to get the next chapter up soon but while I'm waiting I'll start on chapter 4. How's that for a compromise? Thanks to anyone whose actually read this far. TTFN! Ta-Ta-For-Now!

leogal063


	4. Welcome to the Fallout

_Disclaimer: well, I do live in Ontario, my old high school's cheerleaders are involved with the show somehow, and my sister's friend's dad is the director...wait, I still don't own it? Damn. So close._ _And I keep forgetting I don't own 'Birmingham' by Amanda Marshall either._

_AN: Sorry that it took so long to get up, but my computer is fixed now so here it is. I have to go back to work so the updates are not going to be as fast but chapter 4 is almost done. I dedicate the scene at the dinner table to CEE18 who wanted to know more. I know it's long but I figured that it's the most light-heartedness your going to see for a while so I left it alone. Much love goes to all the people who sent their best wishes when I lost my computer. It made my day to know that other people are as frustrated with them as I am! So now i will stop talking and let you read the chapter. Enjoy!_

* * *

Nora had always known that her past would catch up with her. It was never a question of if but when. When would her careful planning be not enough, when would the lies crumble like a house of cards, its foundation not strong enough to support the lives that perched upon it? She never regretted taking her girls. They should have belonged to her in the first place and she was only enforcing her motherly right to protect her children at all costs. Knowing that one day she would be separated from her girls again Nora had tried to raise them to be independent, to ask questions and to be able to survive by without her. 

Sometimes she worried that she had done too good of a job with Casey, had made her so independent that she was unable to trust other people, to let them have some control over her life. But as she stared at the people on her porch, she felt an almost relief at being caught, like a weight was being lifted from her shoulders. No more lies, no more hiding, no more sleepless nights in which she wondered if she should do more, if they should move again someplace far away where there would be even more space between her girls and their father. Now that it was all over she felt an almost relief pass through her body, only to replaced with fear over the future of her family.

"Look, you have the wrong person. We don't know anyone named Delaney, let along Natasha or Juliana." Nora looked over at her husband, his face turning red from his anger and confusion over her lies. His hand clenched the door, his knuckles turning white and his fingers digging in the wood. He was talking in a low voice as if he knew that the children shouldn't be subjected to the battle that was being waged on the porch.

"I'm sorry sir, but we have an arrest warrant for your wife." the woman cop said as she tried to stare him down.

"You have the wro-" George stopped his protesting, staring at the hand that was pushing on his chest, travelling up the owner's arm to her face, watching as Nora shock her head and silently begged him for…something. He felt a feeling of helplessness wash over him as he stared into her brown eyes watching the range of emotions travel across her face. He didn't like the look in her eyes, like she knew something that he didn't know and had already made her decision on the subject and was steeling herself for the repercussions. He felt the world slip away, the cold from the open door dulling, the laughter coming from the dining room fading as he tried to figure out what was going on, who these Delaney's were and why his wife would want to steal their children.

"Nora." he asked, his voice hardly above a whisper. "Wha…" were the only sounds that he could force past his lips as his brain told him that something was very, very wrong. She smiled at him, a small smile that was tinged with sadness and didn't do anything to calm his fear, in fact all it did was heighten it.

"Ma'am?" he heard a voice ask. "You're going to have to come with us."

Nora turned to the man "Cou- could I have a minute?" Without waiting for a reply she turned back to George. She licked her lips before saying in a low voice "I-I did something's in my past that were not the greatest. I don't regret my actions, but they aren't exactly what everyone else thinks was the right thing. I-I have to answer to my actions." she paused, looking at the cops then drew a shuddering breath and turned back to him. "I never meant to hurt you, and even though this happened before I met you I hope that you and the children won't be hurt by this."

"Nora" he asked, drawing out the last syllable of her name, begging her to tell him just WHAT she did. Their eyes locked in a silent battle, his begging her to tell him that these people were wrong and hers asking him to understand, to not ask questions. Their silent battle was broken by the male cop clearing his throat.

"Ma'am, I need to take you down for booking." Nora looked at him, and then asked in a small voice,

"Could we not do this in front of my children? I'll come peacefully, I promise." He nodded and Nora turned away to get her coat. George immediately missed the heat from her palm as he watched her moved to the coat rack, though it didn't really make much difference as the rest of his body had already gone numb.

* * *

"So Mr. Connerie is completely mad, I mean his face is going red and his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head!" Derek puffed out his cheeks and bugged his eyes out as if imitating his and Casey's history teacher would add more to his story. It really didn't. All it did was make everyone laugh, except for Casey who was trying to think of really evil things to do to Derek while he was sleeping. Maybe she should paint his nails pink. But that would involve touching his feet. Ew. 

'_Makeup!'_ she silently agreed upon. She would put waterproof makeup on him and take pictures. _'Excellent.'_

"So Casey's pulls out her textbook and points to some random page…"

"It was not random! It was a page showing archaeological evidence that Viking settlers landed in Newfoundland and built permanent dwellings!" Casey looked around the table at the dumbfounded faces staring back at her.

"What? I was just trying to prove a point and stop misleading information from being passed onto another generation of kids."

"Anyways," Derek drawled while raising his eyebrows at Casey "Mr. Connerie is so mad by now; I mean I thought he was going to blow up right Sam?"

Sam nodded in agreement.

"Hey!" Casey protested

"What?" Sam shrugged. "It's not like we're still going out."

"Thank God!" Derek threw his hands up in the air. "You have no idea how annoying it is to listen to your best friend go on and on about your step-sister."

Casey snorted in disbelief then pointed her fork to Emily "Have you MET our neighbour?"

"Oh my God, _you're_ our neighbour?" Derek said in fake shock while Emily started to giggle. And then snort.

"Oh my God!" Emily shrieked as she tried to stop snorting, which just made everyone else start to laugh. "Stop it, it's not funny!" This of course had the opposite effect and only made them laugh harder. She turned to Derek in a vain hope that she could get the spotlight back on his story. "So what happened next?"

Derek wiped the tears from his eyes and after a few soft chuckles continued.

"So then Mr. Connerie says that because of her **continued defiance**" Derek dropped his voice for added effect "that she should take the matter up with the principal. Casey looked so shocked like she had never been sent to the principal's office before." he paused

"You have been sent to the principal's office before, right?" She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Derek, I have been sent to the office before."

"Good, so you're not a complete nerd."

"It was you're fault!"

"Oh right" Derek said while getting a far-away look in his eyes as if remembering the incident. "Good times."

"So is there a point to this story?" Lizzie asked, staring disbelieving at Derek that he had spent the entire dinner telling them a story that served no other purpose than to get Casey mad. Of course to Derek that was the only reason he needed, but Lizzie wanted an explanation to why Derek and Sam started laughing every time they looked at Casey.

Derek shook his head.

"There's not much of a point, but man it was funny."

"And it wasted pretty much the entire period." Sam tipped his imaginary hat at Casey "Thanks!"

She just glared back at him. "It wasn't a waste. I was trying to make a point."

"Which was?" Derek waved his hand in the air as if he really cared if she continued. Which he knew she was going to. She was Casey.

"The point was that it is incorrect to say that Christopher Columbus is the first person to discover America because he wasn't. He might not have even been the first European of his time to discover America. There are documents that suggest John Cabot was the first. AND he was also responsible for the slaughter of many Native Americans, which is hardly ever mentioned in any history book." She looked around the table, taking in the blank faces staring back at her. Even Marti had stopped making a face with her mashed potatoes and vegetables to witness the confusion that was Casey.

The silence was only broken by Derek clearing his throat. "You need to get out more."

Casey widened her eyes and took a deep breath, which signalled to everyone that she was just getting started. They all inwardly groaned.

"I just think that it's wrong to give him a day when we're ignoring the explorers before him and his impact on the Native American culture!"

Derek sighed and placed his head in his hands.

"You know we don't celebrate Columbus Day here in Canada, right Casey?" Edwin hoped that this would stop Casey from starting on another rant. Casey started to respond but was cut off by Derek.

"Shut up! We don't care!" Casey raised her eyebrows and gave him a disgusted look.

"Make me" she retorted. Edwin and Lizzie glanced at each other, trying to come up with a way to stop the evitable _'Make me make you'_ fight that Casey and Derek had perfected.  
"Make me make you" Derek replied a smirk on his face as he geared up for another round with Casey.

"Make me make you mak-"

"Nora where you going?" Marti question cut through the fight as everyone turned to view Nora at the coat rack. She looked startled, like a child that had been caught doing something wrong. Derek had never seen her look like that; she was usually so calm and organized. Now she looked…lost, like she knew something that they didn't know and didn't want them to know. He exchanged glances with Lizzie, the same confusion etched on her face but when he turned to Casey he saw that she was staring intently at her mother as if this would make Nora do what she wanted. Nora gave a soft sigh and tucked her hair behind her ears. She smiled at them, though it did nothing to calm the feeling that she was hiding something. Her smile seemed forced, like someone who had forgotten how to smile and was just going through the motions. Her lips were pursed together into a thin line and it lacked its usual warmth.

"I'm…there are some people here, a-and they want to talk to me. So you're going to have to finish dinner by yourselves." She nodded as if this was a good enough excuse and turned to get her coat.

"Mommy?" Everyone's head whipped around to stare at Casey. She looked like she had seen as ghost. Actually, she looked like she was a ghost. Her face was pale, her eyes were wide and a mixture of confusion and…fear? seemed to dance across her face. "Mommy?" she repeated, as if she was a child. Nora turned back to Casey and Derek thought he saw the light glint off her eyes as if there were unshed tears in them. Which was strange because why would Nora need to cry? Nothing was wrong. Right?

Lizzie didn't like the looks that were being exchanged between her sister and her mom. She always knew that they had a different bond than she had with either one, but she had always thought that it was because Casey remembered their dead father while she didn't. But the way that her mom was looking at Casey was frightening her. She didn't understand why Casey had frozen like a statue or why Nora was slowly shaking her head, little movements that were easy to miss if you blinked.

"Ma'am?" they all heard come from the doorway, cutting through the silence like a knife.

"I'm coming." Nora said in a quiet voice as she put on her coat and moved to the door. No one dared move or even breathe, even Marti being quiet as they watched Nora pause at the door. She turned to look at her children, all her children, the unshed tears blurring her vision so much that she had to blink several times before she could see clearly. She wanted to preserve this image in her head, to keep it with her wherever she went. She gave a sad smile, trying so hard to be brave but feeling the fear slowly taking over her body.

"I love you. All of you. Be good"

She turned to leave but was stopped by George's hand on her arm. _'Please don't try to stop me' _she silently begged. She wasn't sure if she was going to be able to walk out with out crying now, let alone if he begged her to stay.

"Nora," he said as he put a finger under her chin to turn her face towards him "Don't say anything until I or someone else gets there." She gave a soft chuckle both relieved and disappointed that it was only legal advice. She nodded her head and placed a soft kiss on his lips, letting her lips hover one last time before she walked out the door.

"Mr. Venturi, Mr. Venturi." He heard some one call his name but it was muffled, like someone was covering his ears or it had come from a distance. He briefly looked at the remaining people on his porch then shifted his eyes back to Nora's retreating form. He locked eyes with her as she got into the squad car, mouthed _'I love you'_ before the headlights blinded him, then faded into the darkness.

"Mr. Venturi."

"What." He snapped, still staring at the spot where he had last seen the tail lights.

"We need to come in." He shifted his gaze to the people on the porch, seeing but not processing the scene in front of him.

"Sir." The oriental woman gave him a soft smile.

"I know that this is confusing." He snorted. "But there are some…details that need to be worked out. May we speak inside?"

After a moment he moved from the door his head spinning. His lawyer instincts soon kicked in and he turned to the intruders.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

The younger woman turned to him and gave him what should have been a pleasant smile. "My name's Sarah Brown and I'm a private detective hired by Mr. Delaney." She stuck out her hand but George ignored it and turned to the woman cop. She sighed then pulled out her badge.

"Sergeant Amanda Wetmore." She said briskly. He turned to the last woman only to see that she had already approached the dinner table.

* * *

Casey hadn't moved from her position since she saw her mom getting her coat. She felt oddly separated from her body as she tried to come up with legitimate reasons to why her mom needed to leave so suddenly. She still held her fork in mid-air, a piece of chicken poised to be eaten. An older Asian woman approached the table, looking at each one of the kids, studying their features before settling on her. What Casey guessed was a reassuring smile crossed her face before she said in a low voice. 

"Hello Natasha."

* * *

_AN: I just wanted to get you guys to think (i'm sorry). If Casey and Lizzie's dad was abusive, then why does he have custody and not Nora? _


	5. The Walls of Jericho

_Disclaimer: Tried to buy LWD off E-Bay but I didn't have enough money_

_AN: Okay, I lied. I said I wasn't going to update for a while but I figured that since I had it written I would. But I will slow down, if I plan on passing my courses. So here's the next chapter. Oh, and on a completely different note, whose favorite character is Sheldon now? Mine used to be Marti, but Sheldon now wins by a land slide._

* * *

Derek wasn't as oblivious as everyone thought. He was actually very observant. He had to be if he was going to get away with his schemes. 

For instance, he knew that Nora was different from his dad's other girlfriends. His dad started whistling (off-key mind you) when he was doing work around the house, he would start off every story with 'So the other day I was talking to Nora' and he invited her over for dinner. That's when Derek realized that his dad was serious about her. Not only did he take a day off work to clean, he had sat them down beforehand and basically bribed them so they wouldn't do anything to screw it up.

Of course his dad burnt dinner, Marti spilled her potions in the living room and he had chased Edwin around the house and had been sitting on him at the bottom of the staircase threatening a wet willy when she arrived. But instead of looking disgusted she actually looked…amused. She said that she wanted to date the real George not a fake one, and had wanted to meet his real family not a fake one put on for her benefit. So they ordered Italian-her choice- and she helped Marti and Dad clean up the mess while he and Edwin (well Edwin) got rid of Dad's dinner.

So he hadn't been all that surprised when they had announced their engagement. Outraged yes, surprised no.

After his new stepfamily had moved in he had started to notice even more things. Like, Nora liked old movies, Lizzie knew too much for her age and Casey was a freak.

Actually out of all of them he probably knew Casey the best. You had to know your enemy to be able to outwit them. But as he watched the strained look on Nora's face cloud her features, as he heard her confusing parting remarks that made it sound like she was never going to see them again, as he watched a look of fear grow in Casey's eyes, he had a sinking suspicion that somehow he had missed something.

"Hello Natasha." The woman soothing voice only heightened the clinking sound Casey's fork made as it fell from her hand and hit her plate. Casey remained frozen, her hand still in mid-air, her fingers curled around her imaginary fork.

"That's not Natasha, that's Casey." Marti informed her. The silence seemed to suck in her voice as the lady's gaze swept the table, studying each child before dismissing them, briefly landing on Marti before turning to Lizzie. Her eyes quickly moved between Emily and Lizzie before settling on Lizzie. The same small smile she had given Casey came upon her face.

"And you must be Juliana."

"WHAT is going on here?" George's harsh tone broke through the silence, his eyes holding a barely restrained fury as he viewed the intruders in his house. Casey seemed to leap to life as soon as he said this. She closed her eyes for a moment before pushing her hair behind her ears. She lifted her eyes to meet Derek's for one of the longest moments in his life before turning to look at the lady. Derek wasn't sure if he liked the look she held.

For a brief second he thought he saw fear flicker there, deep unbridled fear that he had never seen even when they had watched 'The Exorcist' together last Halloween. And she had spent most of the movie with her face in a pillow before admitting defeat and turning the lights on. The fear he had seen before she closed him off from her emotions seemed rooted in something deep inside of her, deeper than her fear of spiders or the dark, which he knew for a fact she hated.

"Get away from them." George said through clenched teeth as he moved to the table.

"Sir."

"What!" He whirled around to glare at these people that had intruded his world. "Either tell me what is going on or get out of my house." He demanded.

Sergeant Wetmore sighed. "Ten years ago Rosemarie Delaney stole her two children from their custodial father, and we had reason to believe that she has been living under the assumed name of Nora Macdonald." She told him in a low voice.

George stared at her incredulously. "Reason to believe?"

She once again gave him a tired look. "We know that they are one and the same."

George felt like laughing. Or crying. He wasn't sure yet.

"Nora's not a kidnapper. Kidnappers are bad people. Nora's not a bad person Nora makes quiches!" He exclaimed as if her ability to make French food was a reason to why she couldn't have done this. Sarah wearily looked at him before pulling a piece of paper out of her bag.

"Here."

He stared down at the poster, feeling shock once again take hold over his senses. Nora's face stared from up a photo that was cropped to just show her face. She was younger, and her hair was longer as he could see some of it falling out of her ponytail. She wasn't wearing her usual wide smile but instead a strained one as if it took too much effort to smile. Next to her were two pictures, one of a young girl with dark hair and a wide toothy smile and another of a toddler who looked slightly annoyed as if she was against having her picture taken. Above them the word MISSING mocked him, planting seeds of doubt in his brain.

He glanced at the table, Casey and Lizzie to be exact. Casey was staring blankly at the lady while Lizzie was shooting confused glances, alternating between the woman and her sister. He studied them as if he would study a painting, holding the paper up to better contrast them. If he had seen this poster in the grocery store he would have walked on by, would have never made the connection but with these people saying that these girls were the same he could say that it could be true. Casey certainly looked like this Natasha; they had the same hair, same face structure. It was harder to tell with Lizzie, the child in the picture looked so young the distinguishing features had yet to set in. They could be these missing children; Nora could be…a kidnapper. His lawyer mind set in, whirling with the ramification of what Rosemarie had done while his family mind was numb, feeling like it was made of cotton as he wondered HOW Nora could have lied to him. They were supposed to be married, they were supposed to share the most intimate details of their lives, and she had lied to him.

"Wh…wha…" he audibly swallowed, forcing himself to pull himself together and deal with the situation. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk about the placement of the girls."

He tore his eyes away from the dinner table and looked at the cop.

"Placement?" he questioned.

"Since Mr. Delaney did have custody of them when they were kidnapped, they will most likely be given back to him. There will be a court hearing in Houston to decide this, but for the time being they are wards of the state."

He felt like he had mush for brains; he could hear what she was saying, he just couldn't figure out what the words meant.

"Wards of the state, what does that mean?"

She sighed as if she didn't have time to explain it to him.

"It means that they're going into foster care." She briskly told him, and then pointed to the woman talking to his children. "That's what Ms. Davenport is here for. She's a social worker."

He started to shake his head, trying to wrap his mind over the recent revelations. "Their stuff is here, why do they need to leave?"

She sighed again, raising her eyebrows as if she couldn't believe how dense he was being. She started to speak but her answer was cut off by a scream that came from the table.

* * *

Casey had tired to forget her past, had tried to forget that at one time her name was Natasha and she had lived in fear of the man that she called Daddy. It was the one thing that she tried so desperately to control, and most of the time she could. But sometimes it would creep up on her and the overwhelming urge to crawl under the covers and press her hands over her ears would grip her in its mighty iron grasp and refuse to let go. It was almost like being an asthmatic or having allergies but not knowing the trigger. She could go months without having an 'attack' and then something would happen and she would once again feel six and powerless. 

She had felt like that when her mom announced her engagement. It wasn't that she didn't like George; he seemed like a nice guy and had made it a priority to learn their names and what they liked. It was just that she was afraid that her mom was once again marrying someone who would hurt them and they would be right back where they started. But Casey had come to realize that George wasn't like that and once again she was able to suppress Natasha.

But when she had seen the expression on her mom's face, as she watched as these strangers walked into her house she felt the fear once again start to rise up. It was only when the Asian woman had looked right at her and called her by the name that she hoped never to hear again that she knew that it was over, that every lie that she had told had been worthless, that she was about to lose the shell that protected her from her former life. She felt the fear freeze every muscle in her body, felt it pulse in her ears so that she couldn't hear anything. Her body formed a prison, every molecule remaining frozen in time refusing to move.

It was George's yell that made her body move. She nearly jumped out her seat, moving away from the voice and the hand that had followed the yelling in the first six years of her life. She managed to stop herself though, closing her eyes and reminding herself that it was George, not her dad that was angry. George who had been patiently teaching her how to drive and had never hit anyone, not her father who never had patience for her and had continually hit her and her mom. She opened her eyes, forcing Natasha back down, refusing to let her have control.

It was actually Derek who calmed her down out of all things. When she had looked up their eyes had met and it was like a switch had been flipped. She saw the confusion and worry in his gaze and she realized that he was concerned for her, for CASEY his stepsister.

'_Casey, I'm Casey.'_

She told herself. That was it. That was how she was going to get out of this. She was Derek's klutzy grade-grubbing nerdy step-stepsister. If she just remembered who everyone thought she was then maybe it wasn't over. If she didn't admit anything then they couldn't prove anything and they would get away with this.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The lady looked at her, blinking rapidly.

"Excuse me?"

"You called me Natasha. That's not my name." The woman sighed, a look of disappointment washing over her features.

"So this is how we're going to do this." She muttered.

"Do what?" Casey knew that she was treading on thin ice by asking questions, but she had to pretend that she had no idea what was going on and she figured it would be worse if she stayed quiet.

"You know what I'm talking about." Maybe not. Casey felt like squirming under this woman's fierce stare. She leaned on the back of the couch, all the while never taking her eyes off Casey.

"Where'd you take my mom?" The woman finally shifted her eyes to Lizzie and smiled what Casey guessed what was supposed to be a reassuring smile.

"Your mother had to go down to the police station to answer some questions." No matter how hard the woman tried to sugar coat it, Casey could still hear the sharp intake of breath that seemed to come from everyone at the table.

"Why?" Edwin voiced the question that was on everyone's mind. The woman turned her gaze back to Casey.

"Would you like to answer this?" Casey could almost hear the _whoosh _as everyone turned to look at her. She matched the woman's gaze, unwilling to back down and admit that her life as she knew it was over.

"Why would I know? I've been sitting here eating dinner."

"I can see that. What are you having?"

"Chicken, mashed potatoes and vegetables. Well, we have dinner rolls too but I'm not sure if they count."

"Sounds interesting."

"Not really." Casey knew what the woman was trying to do. She was trying to get Casey to believe she wasn't the enemy and open up to her. So many people had tried to do that before Casey was immune to it.

"Who are you?" Marti's question cut through Casey's thoughts.

"My name is Amanda Davenport. I'm a social worker." If Casey had to guess she would have guessed a social worker.

"Are they talking?" Casey snapped back to reality, realizing that one of the other women was now standing beside Amanda. She noticed George was holding up a piece of paper, staring at it as if it held the secrets of the universe. The light shone through the paper, making the word GNISSIM visible. The fear briefly clouded her eyes as she realized the word meant. She took a shuddering breath, hoping that George would be dense enough to not recognize them. But the sick feeling in her stomach made her worry that he would.

"Hi." Casey blinked, focusing on the other woman standing in front of her. She stared blankly at the outstretched hand, not sure what she was supposed to do.

"I work for your father." Casey's head snapped up so fast that she was sure that she heard something crack.

"My father's dead."

"No he's not Natasha. He's alive and very worried about you."

"My name is not Natasha." Her voice sounded foreign to her, as if someone else was talking and she was just moving her mouth.

'_They're onto you'_

'_Shut up!' _She commanded her brain.

"My name is Casey. Casey Macdonald, my sister's name is Lizzie and my mom's name is Nora." She could hear someone saying her name, Edwin (or was it Derek? Maybe Sam) but she felt like they were light years away.

"Your name is Natasha, your sister's name is Juliana and your mother's name is Rosemarie. We know who you are." Casey closed her eyes.

'_no No NO! This was not happening.'_ Her throat started to close up and she thought for a moment that she would throw up. Through the ringing in her ears she could here Lizzie arguing, Marti and Emily questioning, Edwin denying and someone, _Derek_ saying her name over and over.

"My name is Casey Macdonald,"

"It's Natasha."

"My sister's name is Lizzie,"

"It's Juliana."

"My mom's name is Nora!" Casey could hear her voice rise with every word, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't stop it. The woman looked at her with a look of annoyance, as if she was at fault for making her life harder.

"Your mother's name is Rosemarie."

"No, it's not!" Casey was near tears.

"Stop lying."

"I'm not!"

"We know who you are."

"No."

"It'll be much easier if you just tell us."

"You're lying!"

"We have proof and documents that show that you're Natasha and that your mother is Ros-."

"I'm not Natasha Delaney!"

* * *

_AN: Okay, I just want to explain the chapter's title for anyone who doesn't get it. After the Isrealites left Egypt they wandered in the desert for 40 years (I blame the men. They didn't want to ask for directions.) Anyways, so they come to this walled town called Jericho and they tell they Jerichonians(?) that they plan on walking around their walls for couple days and then the walls will come down, and the Jerichonians said "Keep walking, but you wont knock down our walls." Long story short, the walls fell down and the Isrealites got to live in Jericho. So how does this fit with LWD? Well, after just admitting that she was Natasha Delaney by knowing her last name, the walls Casey had built up come down and she has nothing left to hide behind. See, I'm not only here to entertain but to educate. And I take alot of English courses so I like metaphors. Please help me._


	6. Walking on Broken Glass

_Disclaimer: Does anyone even read this? _

_A.N: Wow, a lot of you liked my metaphor. I'll try and keep it up but I promise nothing. The song in the title is called 'Walking on Broken Glass' by Annie Lennox and I have been waiting since chapter 2 to find a chapter for it. I could make connections to the chapter but I think it's fairly self-explanitory. And just to warn you I don't really like this chapter. I blame my muses (my monkey Irwin and my research prof. Well, she's not really a muse. She's just really boring and I daydream in that class.) Next chapter will be more interesting. And because I doubt anyone can remember the social worker's name is Angela, the private detective's name is Sarah and the cop's name is Amanda. Don't you hate it when you read a book then halfway through you forget who a character is?_

* * *

When they still lived in Toronto Casey's favorite place was the Science Center. Not only was it fun but it was also educational. One of the exhibits was about optical illusions, and there was a hallway that sucked in any sound that a person made. Every footstep, every breath every word was lost in the holes in the metal walls. Your ears started to hurt as the silence oppressed you, 'deafening silence' as Shakespeare called it. It felt like that now. No one spoke; no one made a sound as Casey's eyes darted around the table taking in the same shocked expression on everyone's face. All sound save the ticking of the clock dissipated as everyone processed her mistake. She didn't need thought bubbles to tell her what they were thinking. If she really was Casey MacDonald, how would she know the last name of a girl she said she never was? 

The clearing of a throat broke the silence. "Well," Sarah remarked while a smug smile tugged at her lips "I guess that settles it."

"No." Casey whispered, her voice barely audible.

Angela stepped closer to the table, a sympathetic expression twisting her features. "Just stop this." She pleaded. Casey remained frozen, pressing her lips together before adverting her eyes. She picked up her forgotten fork and placed the speared chicken in her mouth as if what was happening was an everyday occurrence. It would have seemed like her bombshell had no impact on her if her hands weren't trembling.

Lizzie had often seen her sister go on a bender. It usually happened when someone (usually Derek) messed with her perfectly organized world. She would start getting anxious and run around the house ordering everyone about, convinced the world would end if she wasn't able to perfectly execute her task. Casey was a control freak plan and simple. She was loud, she was whiny, and she was a perfectionist. Which was why Lizzie was terrified of her sister right now.

Lizzie wanted to know why their mom had to leave, why they said Casey was someone else and how she knew this unknown family's name, but most of all she wanted to know why Casey was acting so strange. She was sitting straight up in her chair, methodically cutting her chicken while ignoring everyone around her. She would have felt a bit better if she knew that Casey wasn't really aware of her actions, that every bite tasted like sawdust and she was teetering on the edge of hysteria but Lizzie didn't know this and so she didn't feel better.

"Casey." She pleaded, fear laced in her words. "Casey." She said in a firmer voice but still getting no response.

"Who's Natasha?" Casey's only response was to take a small sip of her drink. The silence permeated the room, filling every corner with its oppressing weight.

"Natasha and Juliana Delaney are your birth names. They were changed after your mom stole you from your dad." Sarah told her in a matter-of-fact voice, as if this declaration wasn't tearing their world apart as they sat there.

"No it's not." Casey's voice lacked the earlier convection. Instead of sounding stubborn it sounded like a broken record that was scratchy and muffled. Sarah raised an eyebrow and exchanged an amused glance with Amanda, as if her continued denial was yet another example of teen rebellion. Lizzie felt like screaming that Casey wasn't like other teens, that she had acted more responsible than her peers since she was born and they had no right to judge her but the words died in her throat before the first sound was made.

"If you're not Natasha, then how did you know her last name?" Sarah's question reminded them of the severity of Casey's outburst. Casey raised her eyes from her plate, her motions stilling as her hooded eyes glanced at the speaker. George was struck by how strange she looked, as if any moment she would bolt or burst into tears. Her face was pale and her eyes darted about, refusing to settle for very long on one spot.

"I heard it." came her obvious lie.

Sarah pointed over her shoulder "From all the way over there?" She questioned as everyone turned to look at where George and Amanda were standing. They were close to where the front hallway met the living room, George having not moved very far from the door since Nora had left. Everyone knew that it was basically impossible for Casey to have heard the conversation between George and Amanda from her position at the dinner table, especially since she had been talking to Angela at the time. But Casey still clung to her lie like a drowning person would cling to a life preserver. She gave a weak smile and jerkily nodded her head.

"Yeah, it's amazing what you can hear."

George could only notice how eerily similar Casey's smile was to Nora's from the picture. Both smiles seem forced and overdrawn, and neither smile seemed to move into the owner's eyes.

"Casey." Lizzie's voice was low with a tinge of warning in her words. "There's no way you could have heard it. Tell me the truth." Casey turned to her sister, frightening Lizzie even more as she took in the deadened expression on Casey's face.

"I already did." Casey said in a monotone voice.

"Stop it!" Lizzie shouted. She was startled by Casey's reaction, which was to flinch away from her as if Lizzie's raised voice scared her more than it should.

"What's my name?"

"What?" Everyone whirled to look at the owner of the question.

"I said, what's my name?" Amanda repeated in an irritated voice. "If you heard the conversation then what's my name?" There was a pause before Casey said in a defeated voice,

"I didn't hear that part." A smug smile took over Amanda's harsh expression as she gazed triumphantly at Casey.

"Casey please." Lizzie pleaded, only to once again be denied a response. She turned to George hoping that he, as the adult, would be able to straighten out this mess. He glanced down at the paper he held in his hand, then with feet that felt like they were encased in cement moved towards the dinner table.

"Here." He placed the paper in front of her, Casey realizing to late what he was doing.

"No!" She cried. Everyone jumped and looked at her, surprised at her sudden transformation from her shell shocked actions from moments before. Lizzie ignored her as she focused on the one person she never expected to see on a missing poster.

"It's mom." Lizzie said in disbelief.

"What?" Emily questioned, looking over her shoulder. "Oh. My. God." Came her quiet exclamation. Lizzie scanned the paper, feeling her blood run cold as her mom stared back at her from the paper. She stared at the name that was under her mom's picture, noting that it was indeed 'Rosemarie Delaney' like these people had said.

"Lizzie what does it say?" Lizzie looked at Edwin then up at George, seeing the same confusion and hurt that she felt mirrored in his face. She tried to speak but she couldn't forced the words around the lump that had formed in her throat. She swallowed a couple times, but her throat still felt like sandpaper.

"It says.. it sa…" She paused, then looked at her sister's still form. "It's you. The girl in the picture, Natasha, that's you. And mom's Rosemarie and I'm," she glanced back at the paper. "Juliana. And we're missing. That's what it says." The uncomfortable silence reclaimed the room as everyone tried to wrap their minds around the idea that the MacDonald's were a lie. Casey had dropped the act of pretending to eat, and was now just moving the remainder of her food around her plate.

"Daddy?" George looked down at Marti as she tugged at her shirt, then held up her arms. He mechanically bent and picked her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist and buried her head in the hollow of his neck. She didn't really understand what was happening but she did know that something was very wrong.

"No." Came Lizzie's rejection. "No, we're not these people." Sarah dropped her head in her hand and Amanda groaned.

"Not you too. Look, we don't need to get them to admit anything, so can we just leave?"

Angela glared at both of them. "No." She smiled at Lizzie. "And why do you think we have the wrong kids?"

"My mom wouldn't lie. Our dad left. He left and mom got rid of any memories of him because it hurt to much. She's not a kidnapper. She wouldn't do that." It felt like she had stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone where everything that she had once known to be true was in fact a lie. But with as much intensity as she had wanted Casey to tell her the truth, she now wanted her to deny it.

"Right Case? He left us that's what happened to him. Right?" She was practically begging her to continue the lie, but Casey just stared at her plate, her fork making scratching sounds as she pushed her food around. Angela bent down beside Casey.

"I know you think that if you tell us then you're losing, but don't you think that your sister, your family, deserves to know the truth?" After a pause Angela was about to try again when Casey said in a low voice, "I can't."

"Why not?" Angela prodded. "Whatever it is, no person is an island. It seems really bad because you're alone, but if you tell us we'll be able to help you and it won't seem so bad." Casey began to shake her head, muffled cries escaping from her tightly closed lips.

"Why not?" Angela asked again. Casey bit her lip so hard that Lizzie was afraid that she would draw blood, and then whispered, "I promised."

"Casey." Angela tried again, but Casey only moved take a sip of her drink. Angela could see the internal battle being fought inside Casey, the struggle between keeping it in or telling the truth. She knew that it was only a matter of time before she broke, though Angela wasn't sure which way she was going to break.

"I want to give you something." Sarah said in a quiet voice. She pulled out three stacks of envelopes that were held together by rubber bands and placed them down on the table in a row. She picked one up and handed it to Casey.

"They're from your grandmother. They're birthday cards. One for every birthday she missed."

Casey stared at them as if she had never seen an envelope before. Sarah sighed, then removed the rubber band and opened the top envelope. She pulled out a bright pink card, with a clown holding brightly coloured balloons and glitter spread over the top gracing the front.

"Do you mind if I read it?" Taking Casey's silence as a yes she began to read.

"Dear Natasha. Today is your seventh birthday. We were going to go to the aquarium today. You loved to stand in front of the tank and watch the fish swim back and forth and read the signs in front of the tanks. I wonder what you're doing today, if your mom's taken you to an aquarium to see the fish or if you're staying at home watching movies or having a big party with all your friends.

Your house is so quiet without you and your sister. Your rooms are still the same. It looks like you two just left for the day and are going to be back any minute but then I remember that your gone. Scruffy still sits by your bed waiting for you to come home. I wish your mom had taken him with you. Actually, if I could wish anything I would wish that she would bring you home but I can't make you come home. I'm writing this card so that if I never see you again you'll know that I love you and I'm thinking of you everyday. I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.

Love forever, Grandmama"

Sarah finished reading and looked up at Casey. She remained as non-responsive as before, staring down at the table and refusing to met anyone's eyes. Derek tried to weave into her line of vision without success, while Emily whispered "Case" and touched her shoulder. The only thing Casey did was flinch away, withdrawing into her shell even more. Sarah sighed then picked up the next envelope. This card was white with 'Happy Sweet Sixteenth' written in pink with pastel flowers in the background.

"Dear Natasha. Today is your sixteenth birthday." Sarah paused "Sorry, they're not in order. Anyways, today is your sixteenth birthday. You were my first grandchild and I dreamed of one day giving you an elaborate sweet sixteen party. I was going to invite all your friends and hire the best caterers and do whatever I could think of to make it special. I don't know if you would have allowed me to do this but I can dream.

I wonder if you're having a big party with cake, streamers and balloons or if you've kept it low key, with only a few friends and ordering in pizza. As I can't see you I can only tell you that I hope that wherever you are you're happy and loved and all your wishes are coming true. I wait for the day when I can see you and your sister again and hear you voices echo in your house and listen to your footsteps running up and down the hallways. Until then I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.

Love forever, Grandmama"

Still getting no response from Casey she picked up the next card. It was green with 'Happy Birthday Super Star' written in black on the front.  
"Dear Natasha. Today is your tenth birthday. Scruffy's sitting beside me as I write this. Unfortunately we're both getting older, though it-"

"Could you stop?" came Casey's quiet request. She looked like she was about to burst into tears at any moment.

"Your grandmother misses you very much." Angela said in a soothing voice "All she wants is to see you again. Don't you think that she and your dad deserve that?" As soon as she said that she knew she had made a mistake. Casey immediately straightened her back and tossed her head up, the same fire and malice that was usually reserved for Derek now intensified and practically leaping from her eyes.

"I don't have a father and I've done quite well without one." She said in a cold voice.

"Casey," Angela tried again only to have Casey jerk away from her. Her chair scraped against the floor as she said "My name is Casey MacDonald and I resent you coming into my house and spreading lies. Now if you'll excuse me, I need something to drink."

She started walking to the kitchen, ignoring Angela's vain cries. It would have been very dramatic had the phone not rung. George reached for it out of habit, his voice sounding hollow to his ears.  
"Victoria, yeah she's here but it's not a good ti-" he was interrupted by Casey's glass crashing to the floor, left neglected as she ripped the phone from George's hand.

"Vicky, Vicky, did they… yeah, they came here too… they're still here…well…I didn't mean to, it's just came out!" Lizzie exchanged confused glances with everyone at the table. Even Sam knew that Casey and Victoria didn't have a good relationship, yet here Casey was, clinging to the phone as if this was the most important conversation she ever had.

"Yeah, I know. I know! Are you coming, you prom-I didn't mean it like that, I just wasn't sure if you remembered. You don't have the best memory. Yeah." There was silence from Casey as she started to nod her head. She sighed, then turned to look at Lizzie, then Angela. "Do you think it's best, I mean…" She was cut off by Victoria's cry of 'Harry!' which was loud enough to come through the phone. Casey grimaced having gotten the brute of the yell.

"Yelling isn't going to get him to move faster." She sighed.

"Ah, Derek?" she replied to Vicky's comment. "Yeah, but, do you think?...Yeah, I guess, maybe. Hold on." She turned to Angela "Are we going to foster care?" Angela's nod seemed to suck the remaining air from everyone's lungs. Casey turned back to the phone. " Yeah, they are. Okay, I'll do it…No, I don't need you to stay on, I can do it. Just hurry. Bye." She took in a deep breath and hung up the phone, staring at it for a moment before turning to the table.

"Okay." She said "I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything."

* * *

_AN: Okay, next chapter deals with what ACTUALLY happened that made Nora kidnap Casey and Lizzie. And to warn you it's not pretty. And the line that Casey's grandmother wrote 'I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be' is from a book written by Robert Munch called 'Love you Forever' and I would suggest reading it. Until next time...I have no idea._


	7. Opening Pandora's box

_Disclaimer: This is the last time I'm doing this unless I come up with something funny. But for the last time DISNEY does not own LWD, POPE PRODUCTIONS does. I'm sorry for having to point that out, it's just that us Canadians need to tell everyone else whose Canadian. Like Mike Myers. Or Our Lady Peace. Or basketball (while it was invented in America, a Canadian by the name Dr. James Naismith invented it. Betcha didn't know that. Betcha didn't even care.) Though America can keep Pam Anderson. She scares me._

_AN: Yes, I know this took a bit longer than I thought it would. Heck, it took a lot longer than I thought it would. The only reason I finished it is because my sister followed me around the house yelling 'Write dammit, write' and saying that all the people who read this are very angry at me. So I finished it to shut her up (she was very annoying). If only it lasted for longer than ten minutes. Since so many people liked the reference in the title I made two chapters back (and I'm a big fan of Gilmore Girls and Lost) I've included some cultural references in the story and explain them at the end of the chapter. I'd suggest finishing the chapter then going back to understand the references you didn't get. Well, I think I've rambled on for enough so enjoy the chapter!_

_I dedicate this chapter to my sister, may she rest in peace. (In my defence, there should be a warning on pans that say if you hit someone with it it may cause death. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)_

* * *

Casey felt like she was the main attraction at a freak show. Everyone was staring expectantly, waiting for her to explain what the hell was going on. The problem was, Casey didn't know where to begin. In the three minutes since she had hung up the phone she had opened and closed her mouth seventeen times, brushed her hair back twelve times, brought her hair forward eleven times, twisted her hands together six times, and had moved two steps towards the table. 

"Could we hurry this up?" Amanda asked. Both Angela and Sarah gave her a look, though Angela's was a look of anger while Sarah's was more of boredom than anything else. Amanda had moved into the dining room and was leaning against the back of the couch beside Sarah while Angela sat in Nora's vacant seat. Amanda glared back at Angela, her disapproval of Angela's handling of the situation apparent on her face. Angela slid her eyes over to Casey and smiled.

"Ignore her. She thinks a lack of social manners makes her cool." Amanda scoffed but no one paid attention to her as they were all focused on Casey. She gave a weak smile and brushed her hair forward for the twelfth time.

"Um…well…you see." She faltered. She had spent so many years hiding the first six years of her life that she was finding it hard to put it into words. That and the fact that she was scared shitless.

Casey opened her mouth for the eighteenth time. She paused, then said in a low voice. "I've never told anyone the entire story. I don't know where to start."

"It's always best to start at the beginning."

Casey gave a chocked laugh and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know how it started. I wasn't there."

Angela sighed. "Then just tell us what you know."

Casey nodded. "Okay, my name is…God, I sound like I'm introducing myself at an addict meeting…my _birth _name is Natasha Delaney; Lizzie's is Juliana, Mom's is Rosemarie and my dad…my dad." She paused, staring at the table as if she could see something they all couldn't. She furrowed her brow, then looked up.

"They looked like the perfect couple, you know? They'd smile at the right time and laugh at the right time. They weren't exactly the Cleavers but they were close. Some of the time. And then sometimes, it would get bad. Nothing we did was ever enough for him no matter how hard we'd try. And it was little things, not big things. The-the dishes not being done, dinner not being ready on time, my clothes not matching. Little things. And when he got mad," Casey trailed off, her face unreadable as she once again stared off into space. Lizzie had a feeling that she didn't want to know the answer, but she had to ask.

"What happened when he got mad?"

Casey didn't answer her. She just stared at Lizzie, wondering which path to chose. She knew that Lizzie looked up to her, that everyone thought that out of the two sisters Casey had the better life. It was only Casey who knew that it was reversed, that Lizzie had the better life while hers was screwed up. She didn't want to ruin Lizzie's innocence, to forever change her view of the world. But could she really continue lying, spinning one story after another especially to her sister? And really, wasn't this the end already and she was just prolonging the evitable?

"When he got mad he would hit…us." Casey said. It felt like a giant boulder rolled off her shoulders. This was what she was afraid of? Words? What could memories do? She felt elated. But the same weight that had fallen off Casey's shoulders was transplanted onto everyone else's. Well, except for the intruders, Marti and George. The intruders felt sorry but didn't really care, Marti knew that hitting was wrong but thought Casey was talking about the smacks that she gave Dimi and George felt numb. He probably wouldn't have reacted even if Casey had said they were aliens from another planet. But for the rest Casey's weight had become their weight, dragging them under the surface. Emily and Sam felt acutely out of place, like a meat lover at a vegetarian convention or Flight Plan as an in-flight movie. This should be a family moment and no matter how many times they had eaten dinner at the MacDonald-Venturi household they weren't family. Edwin and Derek felt nauseated that people they cared about at had been witnesses to abuse, had been so violated by someone who was supposed to protect them.

And Lizzie laughed.

"That's all you got? That's it? Have you _met_ Mom? She believes in equal rites and standing up for what you believe in! Mom would never put up with…_that_!" Lizzie found it hard to say the actual word 'abuse', seeing as it had no relevance in her life. But whether it was Casey's grim face, the recent revelation that her birth name was not the name she had grown up with or the kaleidoscope of memories that assaulted her brain, the seeds of doubt began to sprout in her mind.

'_Marti, no matter how many times Dimi calls you a dumb head you should never hit him.'_

'_You're grounded Derek! I don't care who started it or what the other person said, violence is never the answer. You don't get into fights and you never hit someone! Ever!'_

'_You're dad and I we had some…problems, and we couldn't stay married. I know you want to meet him Lizzie but he's not ready to be a father. I know it seems unfair but I don't want to see him until he's ready. And I don't know if that's ever going to happen.'_

"He did Lizzie. He used to…push her if she wasn't doing what he wanted. And he would yell at her and call her names and hit her. And me. But mostly her because she didn't like when he hit me and I was able to stay out of his way easier than Mom. Or maybe she stayed so he would hit her and not me. I don't know. And then she had enough so we left." Casey paused to take a breath because she had talked so fast she had neglected to breath. It felt weird to say those words aloud, to acknowledge them. She stared around the table, trying to gauge everyone's expression. They were all the same, shock and horror. And they had just gotten the basics.

"She just left? Just like that?" Amanda question, scepticism present in her face. Casey sighed. She really was starting to dislike her.

"So I can't get away with the Reader's Digest version?"

"Like I said before, ignore her. She's not a people person." Angela said with a smile. Casey gave her a small smile back. Maybe this was all over, they would just bring her mom back and everything would just go back to the way that it was.

"So we're good?" Casey asked hesitantly.

"Sure." Angela chirped.

"So…you're bringing my mom back?" Casey hope deflated as the smile faded off Angela's face.

"Oh honey, no."

"Why not?

"Because you're mom kidnapped you." Amanda curtly said.

"I told you, because he hit us and my mom wanted to protect us!" Casey exclaimed.

"She still kidnapped you. The end never justifies the means." Amanda said in a bored tone.

"I think the quote is 'The end doesn't justify the means.'" Sarah corrected. Amanda looked over at her and narrowed her eyes.

"I know that. I changed the quote the emphasize that fact that I believe that just because someone has a reason for committing a crime doesn't make their actions right."

"But what about those people who get off on murder charges by pleading self-defence?" Angela pointed out.

"That's different. If it's a choice between being killed or killing someone else then the person shouldn't be as heavily punished."

"But what if a starving man has a choice between stealing a piece of bread or starving to death?" Sarah asked.

"Then they should go to jail."

"But the starving man has to make a choice between life or death. The only difference is that if the man steals the bread no-one dies; unless the bread was mouldy. And then couldn't the store owner be charged for murder because he supplied the murder weapon?" Sarah tilted her head as if she was actually pondering the imaginary situation.

Casey stared at them. Out of all the people who had to come and ruin her life, she got the Three Stooges. It figured.

"Hi! My mom was right to take us. You don't know the whole story. Can I continue?" she asked

"_May_ I continue." Angela corrected. "Sorry. Habit" she apologized under the questioning stares from Amanda and Sarah.

"Okay. Well, my dad would hit my mom, especially if he was drunk or angry. He liked to control everything and if something happened that wasn't what he wanted he would explode. And my mom would wear sunglasses and long-sleeved shirts even in the summer to cover the bruises on her wrist from when he grabbed her to get her to do what he wanted her to do. And she wore concealer everyday. She went through bottles the way that Imelda Marcos went through shoes. And he would call her names or shout at her for hours and she never did anything. She just…took it, like she didn't really care, like it didn't matter." Casey quietly stopped,

"Can you tell us what happened when your mom took you?" Angela questioned.

"It's complicated."

"We have time." Amanda started to protest, but was silenced by a death glare from Angela.

"Well," Casey started. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if this would stop the assault on her life. "There was this…room"

"A room?" Angela prodded.

"It was more like a closet. Well, a closet/room thingy. They would store things in there and the floor was like cement and it was cold and dark and scary and I didn't like going in there. And my dad knew that I didn't like going in there and he told me…he said that if I was bad he would put me in there and shut the door and the spiders would come and spin a web around me so I couldn't move and then they would eat me."

Casey audibly swallowed. She hated thinking about that room, about how when the door was shut it was so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face and how the cold seemed to permeated every pore of her body and suck up all the warmth that used to be there. She hated that room even after all these years and hated that it still had the power to scare her.

"Did your dad put you in that room?" Angela question cut through Casey's thoughts. Everyone waited for her answer, most already having guessed the answer but not wanting to believe that someone could be that cruel to their own daughter. Lizzie felt like she was going to be sick right there at the dinner table, just vomit all over the remnants of their forgotten dinner. And her queasiness only got stronger when Casey slowly nodded.

"We were having breakfast, or lunch, I can't remember. It was just the two of us and he was reading over some papers from work, and I spilled my juice all over them." It was scary how clear the memory was, how clearly she could see the fluid spreading like a flood over the table, soaking the papers and turning them red. She tightened her arms across her chest before continuing.

"He grabbed my arm and twisted it up." Casey unconsciously demonstrated, twisting her right arm up so her elbow was practically level with her shoulder and past her back. It made even George feel nauseous, a sliver of disgust run through the haze of his mind as he watched Casey move her arm in a way that seemed painful if she did it to herself, let alone having someone do that to her. "He threw me in there and said when I learned how to behave I could come out. He locked the door so I couldn't open it. I waited for a while but he didn't come back." Waited was the wrong word. Screamed was a better word. Cried, pleaded, begged were better words as she had done all of those in an attempt to free herself, before she had submitted to what she thought was an imminent death.

"After a while I heard Mom come home and start to call for me. I started to bang on the door and I guess she heard me because she came to the door. They were screaming at each other and I think she was trying to open the door because the knob was rattling. Then…I guess he got really mad at her because I heard a loud thump and they stopped yelling. He opened the door and grabbed me and I saw Mom. He…she was on the ground beside the wall and I guess he had punched her because her lip was bleeding and I think she hit the wall. He grabbed me and said something like 'Here, take her. I don't care' and kind of threw me at her. She picked me up and took me upstairs and a couple of days later we left him." The silence once again reclaimed the room but it was now heavy with the cries of a child and the regret of a scared woman. Casey had the fleeting thought that she should name the silence, since it had turned up so much it deserved its own name.

"Hmm" Angela murmured. Only her and Amanda remained unaffected by Casey's recollection. Having seen the worst that society has to offer one abusive father did not change their world.

"What?" Casey questioned

"Well, it's just that you seem to have a very good memory of something that happened over ten years ago."

"I can remember a lot from that time. I can remember what I was wearing when we left, how my mom acted, how cold it was."

"Cold?" Amanda dryly interrupted.

"Yeah. Why?"

Amanda sighed and glared at Casey. "Could you stop wasting our time! Your mom kidnapped you in June. It's not cold in June."

Casey gave a small chuckle and a weary smile. "That's just the first time she took us. We have yet to go through the divorce. You wanted the whole story; I figured I'd give it to you. I'm leaving out all the times that she stayed, I figured they weren't all that important unless you want to hear those also?" She finished with a cynical smile that chilled everyone to the bone. The Casey that was standing in front of them wasn't Casey-the-friend, Casey-the-sister or even Casey-the-foe. This was Casey-the-cynic, a girl who knew first hand the evil that the world had to offer and wasn't willing to be hurt again. This wasn't some sick joke or elaborate story that she made up for attention. This was real life, this had actually happened and it could only go downhill.

Angela gestured with her hand that Casey should continue. Casey took in a deep breath to calm her queasy stomach that accompanied every memory of her dad.

"My mom moved in with her parents and in the divorce he got custody of us. Well, he basically got everything and left her with nothing but anyways. One night," Casey paused again, an action that Lizzie found extremely irritating, and turned to Lizzie "I think you had an ear infection because I think you were tugging on your ear. Anyways, you were crying and Dad was trying to get you to be quiet but you wouldn't stop crying. He was in hallway walking up and down and when I came out of my room he wasn't really bouncing you but…shaking you. And the louder you cried the harder he would shake you, which made you cry louder. And," Casey lifted her head, a distressed look on her face "I just wanted him too stop shaking her. Her head was going back and forth and I knew that he was hurting her." She begged as if she needed to be forgiven. "I started tugging on his shirt trying to get him to give her to me. He got mad at me and hit me, then grabbed me by my shirt and threw me out of the way. Except-except when he threw me I fell down the stairs. I hit like _every _step on the way down and I broke my arm and twisted my leg. And when my mom came to the hospital I begged her to take us away and a couple of weeks later she did. So there. You wanted the whole story, you wanted every crummy detail. Are you happy now?" she bitterly spat at them, her arms so tightly braced against her body her nails were pressed into her arms.

"Why didn't you tell someone?" Angela quietly asked as she examined the paper in front of her. "A social worker came to see you in the hospital. Why didn't you tell them? I'm just curious." A look of horror passed over Casey's face before she lowered her gaze to the floor. Lizzie knew that she was hiding something but right then she didn't care. She wished that her sister had kept her secrets, had spared her from this. She really wanted to throw up but her body seemed frozen and refused to what she wanted it to do.

"He said he'd kill her." Casey's quiet voice blasted through Lizzie's thoughts. "When we were in the car I told him that I was going to tell my mom and we'd go to live with her and he said," Casey looked up from the floor, unshed tears in her eyes. "He said that if I told anyone then he would kill Lizzie, that it would be so easy and no one would find out but Mom would know and she'd hate me forever because it would be my fault. I didn't know that I could tell and Lizzie wouldn't get hurt. She was all I had left and I didn't want to lose her. So you can't send us back. It's not right and I wont let him hurt us again."

Okay, now Lizzie was sure that she'd throw up. Her life had been threatened? By her own father? This just seemed like one of those T.V movies that were on late at night where the kid either over came a great childhood tragedy to become someone famous or killed everyone in a bloodbath worthy of Quentin Tarantino.

Casey was just mad. She wanted to kick and scream until she had no energy left and then take a long hot bath. She didn't want to stand there like an animal on display and she didn't want to see the reactions of people that she cared about. Emily's eyes were wide and shining with unshed tears, Derek was studying the table as if it was a famous painting (or a naked model knowing Derek), Sam had paled to the point that he looked like a marshmallow with yellow yarn on it and Edwin's mouth had dropped open. Casey didn't want to look at George. He had never been very good at hiding his feelings and she didn't want to know if he was going to stand by her mom or leave her. She had always closed herself off to feeling anything for her stepfamily (or so she told herself) but she didn't want George to divorce her mom, for her mom's sake. And Lizzie's, not hers.

"Is-that it?" Sarah slowly asked, unsure what to do now with the evening's drastic turn.

"Sure." Casey responded. She gazed at the ceiling, hoping that focusing on something else besides the silence would distract her from her shitty childhood. It was only the distinct beeping sounds that pulled her out of her daze.

"What are you doing?" Casey asked Sarah. It was only when she looked up that Casey was able to see that she was holding a cell phone. A stab of fear ran through her body. There was only one person Sarah would need to call but still…

"Who are you calling?" Please don't be him, please don't, please. But the look of pity that crossed her face confirmed her greatest fear.

"Your father."

"You can't!" Casey exploded. Nonononono.

"He has to know you are alright. He's still your father." Angela tried to do damage control. It wasn't working. Casey started to wring her hands together and hyperventilate.

"Why? You're not going to give us back to him are you? You can't do that, you take children _out_ of abusive situations, not back into them!"

"Your dad had custody of you and your sister when you left so he still has custody of you. You can try and get emancipated or something like that but it has to be decided in Houston and your dad needs to know what's going on." Angela told her

"Why can't we just stay here? I mean, why do we have to go to foster care. You took my mom away so there's no chance that she's going to take us and leave and George is here so you'd be leaving us with a responsible adult. The judge has to side with my mom anyways and we'll come back here so there's no point in moving us if we're going to be coming right back!" Casey pleaded.

"The judge may side with your mother and award her custody but right now your dad has custody. And until the court hearing IN HOUSTON to decide custody you are the wards of the state of Texas." Angela saw the sour look and made a quick and slightly un-orthodox decision. "Look, this isn't normally done but I could allow you to stay here until you are sent back to Houston, under the condit…" Angela held up her hand to quiet Casey's 'Really?' "Under the condition that your dad agrees to let you stay here."

"What!"

"If your dad agrees to let you stay here, then I will allow it. But only if your dad agrees."

"He's never going to let us stay here! He got mad when Mom _talked_ to other men, he's never going to let us stay with her new husband!"

"Then you will be going to foster care until custody is settled. We've arranged homes both here and in Houston where you and your sister can stay."

"You can't just send us to Houston. We're Canadian citizens and we want to stay here!" Casey knew it wasn't a very good argument but she had never been the kind of person to go down without a fight. Angela just sighed and placed her chin in her hand as if arguing with her took too much energy.

"You're not Canadian citizens. Your legal names were not put on your citizenship papers which makes them invalid."

'_Great'_ Casey thought. Just another thing she had to lose. "What about George. He's our step-dad. Doesn't he have any say in this?" As soon as those words left her mouth Casey knew something was wrong. A look of guilt crossed Angela, Sarah and even Amanda's face as if they knew something that she didn't. A knot started to form in her stomach as they exchanged glances as if deciding who wanted to destroy their lives further. After what seemed like forever but was really only a couple of seconds Amanda focused her steely eyes on Casey.

"Ever since your mother kidnapped you she's been using the name Nora Macdonald. She never legally changed her name therefore any document that has that name on it is … invalid."

"Huh?" Casey asked. She had a sick feeling that she knew where this was going.

"It means we're not married. Legally." came George's quiet confirmation.

* * *

_AN: Dum Dum Dum. Okay here's the cultural reference notes. _

_Pandora's Box- In Greek mythology Pandora was the first female. She was given extreme curiosity and a box from the gods. When her curiosity got the best of her she opened the box and released all the miseries of mankind—greed, vanity, slander, envy, pining—leaving only hope inside. It releates to LWD because once Casey tells what her dad did she can't take it back, just like Pandora couldn't take back mankinds miseries._

_The Cleavers- They were the parents in the show 'Leave it to Beaver.' Basically, the mom wore pearls and high heels when doing housework, the dad came home promptly at 6 and hung his hat on the coat rack and every problem was solved in a nauseating display of family togetherness. I saw one episode. It scared me more than Michael Jackson's new nose (Well, no. Nothing is scarier than that)_

_Flight Plan- A 2005 movie staring Jodie Foster about a woman who loses her kid on a plane but everyone thinks she's crazy and she doesn't have a kid. I wont ruin the movie for you, so I'll just say that you don't want to see it on a flight._

_Reader's Digest- A magazine that is published with condensed articles instead of full length ones. (I personally read it for the jokes scattered through-out. Wow, I sound like those people who say they read Playboy for the articles)_

_Three Stooges- A group of (three at one time, but more were added after some originals died) vaudeville preformers that are best known for their extremely physical slapstick comedy, mixed in with one-liners and some kind of outrageous plot. (My dad tried doing a Three Stooges sketch with his sister. He hit her in the eye and cause her to get a black eye. And he wonders why she doesn't visit all that often)_

_Imelda Marcos- She is a former First Lady of the Phillippines who when she was exiled and her closets raided a huge amount of shoes was found. Like, over a couple thousands by the people's count, around a thosand by hers. Though if anyone has over even a hundred shoes they have way too much money. Or need to clean their house._

_Quentin Tarantino- An American filmmaker who likes to use an excessive amount of violence in his films, especially Kill Bill Vol. 1 and 2. (I suggest watching those movies, just not while eating. I made that mistake and it was hard to to finish my dinner. Hard, but not impossible.)_


	8. What's the Story Morning Glory?

_This chapter is a continuation of last. They were originally one chapter but I doubted that anyone would want to read about 16 pages of my rambling nonsense. I'm not too sure about this chapter because it just mostly sets up things to come and introduces some characters and whatnot. I plan on going into how the characters feel in later chapters which I think is more interesting, but I had to get some things out of the way first. Enjoy!_

* * *

"_It means we're not married. Legally." came George's quiet confirmation._

There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone at the table as they took in this unseen glitch. At one point or another, everyone had either wished George and Nora would get a divorce or wondered how two people who were so clearly opposites could make a relationship work. But to find out that they were no longer married, that the marriage had never existed, that was something that they had never thought about.

"Buf I shaw you. You an Noa said I doo, you said tat meant you wearf maeid." George looked down in confusion at Marti, partly because he wasn't sure what she had said and because she said it with her thumb in her mouth even though she hadn't sucked her thumb since she was five and Derek said he'd give her a quarter for every day she didn't. But George quickly stopped caring as the numbness took over and the words 'not married' taunted him in his brain. Did Nora know this? (See how tired he was? He didn't even think to call her by her real name.) Did she know, had she always known, had she been…using him? Obviously she didn't trust him enough to tell him that she was on the run from the law. And yet she had married a lawyer. It was a bit ironic when he thought about it. Or had she married (pretend married) him because of that reason? It confused him.

"Daddy?" Marti questioned.

"We-it-she lied. That's why we're not really married."

"Why?"

Lizzie gave a chocked laugh. "Cause she's a hypocrite. You _both_ are." Lizzie glared at her sister. It felt good to be angry, powerful even. "You and mom have always told me not to lie, to not keep secrets from each other yet all my life you've been lying to me. And what's really awful is that you say can't lie and yet you've lied your entire life!" Lizzie knew her voice was rising with every word and in any other situation she wouldn't be yelling at her sister but right now Casey wasn't her sister. She was the enemy. "I hate you."

Casey could feel her body harden with her sister's every word. Normally she would have fought it but now she so desperately wanted her shell. "It wasn't a lie."

"Yes it was!"

"It was a do-over. Mom screwed up the first time. She stayed with him a lot longer than she should have, she trusted him even after he proved he was untrustworthy and she lost us to him because of that. But we got a do-over, a chance to do it _right_. And it wasn't a lie, the important stuff. Just because our names are different doesn't mean we're different. It doesn't matter if we grew up Natasha and Juliana Delaney or Casey and Lizzie MacDonald. All that matters is that we grew up _with_ Mom _away_ from him."

A part of Lizzie knew that this was a reasonable excuse but she didn't feel like being reasonable so she slumped in her chair, crossed her arms and stared sullenly at the table. Casey just sighed. She didn't really expect her to understand but a part of her wanted an ally.

"I hate to break up this…moment but I need to call your dad. You don't have to talk to him but he needs to notified." Sarah said.

"Why does he have to be told? Can't you just bring my mom back and forget about us?"

Casey pleaded. There had to be a way out of this.

"Because and no." Amanda said

"Well, then let me and Lizzie go. We'll wait till she's eighteen and we wont have to go live with him."

"You can try for emancipation _in Houston_. You could get custody of your sister."

"Why do I have to try; why isn't my word good enough?"

Angela rubbed her forehead. This was starting to give her a headache. "Your story might just be a story. You'd be asking a judge to believe a child's memories told through a teenager who could easily been influenced by their mother. She could have twisted the truth and made you believe something that didn't happen. It's not a sure thing that a judge is going to award your mom custody. She did steal you."

"But I'm not lying. Why wont you believe me?" Casey pleaded. The need to throw a temper tantrum was growing stronger with every passing second.

"I do believe you, but that's not the point." Angela said.

"I wont go. I wont go back. If you send us to Houston and put me in foster care I'll, I'll, I'll run away. I'll take Lizzie and run. You can't make me go."

"Casey, just listen to them. Stop being so stubborn." Emily tried to reason with Casey but she knew her stiff stance all too well. Casey wasn't going to back down. Angela sighed.

"If you continue being difficult I can and will separate you and your sister. I'll tell your social worker in Houston to separate you and not allow any communication between the two of you."

It was one of those moments that Derek knew all too well. (Not the Nora-being-a-kidnapper-and-Casey-and-Lizzie-being-sent-back-to-their-dad moment) He'd seen Casey lose her cool before (usually at him or because of him) and the fact that her entire body was tense and she was glaring at Angela was not a good sign. He wasn't quite sure why this made him react but it did. Maybe it was because it was normal, something he could deal with while he had no idea how to react to the bigger situation. Did he side with Casey? Did he force these people out of his home? He had no idea. But Casey getting mad, _that_ he could deal with. He expected Casey to lunge at her and try to claw her eyes out or something like that, so he prepared himself to hold her back before she did something stupid. He rose a bit out of his seat and tried to get Emily to prepare to grab her but she just gave him a confused look (apparently his ability to use his head to point at objects left something to be desired). But Casey did something else that Derek was used to. She reacted in the complete opposite way than how he thought she'd react.

"Fine." She said through gritted teeth, grabbed some napkins and started to mop up her spilled drink.

"Casey." Sarah said. She was actually a bit scared of her. First she blows up over little things then gives in for the big things and starts to clean? This was one messed up kid.

"I said fine!" Casey shouted. _'Very messed up'_ Sarah thought.

"I'll go to Houston, I'll be a good girl, I'll even let you call my dad, just…don't take my sister away from me again. She's all I have left." Casey refused to look up from the floor in case they saw the tears that threatened to fall.

"Again?" Lizzie softly questioned. Just because she was angry didn't mean she wasn't curious.

"We were separated when we were in the system. I had to throw the temper tantrum of the century to get you back."

"We were in the system?"

"Yep, in between when Mom left and Dad got custody. It was hell."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad." Amanda scoffed.

"Wanna bet?" Casey snapped. "Our stuff was thrown into garbage bags and we're taken away from our mom to live with people we don't know and just when we get comfortable we got moved again only this time there's not enough room for both of us so we got separated like it didn't matter that then we'd be alone. I had to cry and scream for about a week before they moved me to where Lizzie was living but they moved us again. We went through three foster homes in two months. So yes, it was bad."

"Sounds a bit extreme." Amanda said.

"She's not exaggerating, they were placed in foster care for," Angela scrunched her nose and she ruffled through the papers in front of her "one month, two weeks and five days exactly. During that time they were separated for over a week and during that time Natasha did cry constantly. She only stopped during the three-hour visit that she had with Juliana and when they were placed in the same home."

"Why would you do that?" Edwin asked when no one else would.

"The courts declared their mom unfit to take care of them. And speaking of going to foster care, you are going. You should go upstairs and pack now." Angela said.

"No." Casey quietly refused. Angela sighed and inwardly prepared herself for a battle. "You said that we could stay here right?" Casey asked.

"Yes," Angela slowly said. "If your dad agrees. If he doesn't give his premission you can't stay."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Angela wasn't quite what she was agreeing to."So,?"

"You can call him. But not till Vicky gets here." Casey quietly said. "You can call him when she gets here and not before or I wont talk to him."

Angela looked back at Sarah, who shugged her shoulders and nodded her approval, and Amanda, who rolled her eyes and sighed, the furrowed her brow and turned to Casey.

"Is this Victoria Kearney, daughter of Fiona Kearney?" Amanda asked.

"Why?" Casey replied. She really hoped that it was just an innocent question.

"Curiosity." She pulled out a piece of paper. "Do you know this woman?" She held up a paper that had a sketch of a woman on it. She looked very generic, very bland with no life in her face, but she looked vaguely familiar to everyone (except Sam and Emily). They were sure that they knew her, but weren't sure who she was.

"No, I don't know her." Casey said. Edwin knew Casey was lying, he just wasn't sure why. There was just something about this that was odd. Then again, the entire situation was odd.

"Are you sure?" Amanda pressed.

"I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition." Casey snapped back.

"You know Monty Python?" Sarah smiled.

"George like it; he makes us watch." The small smile that had appeared with her witty response faded as she realized that they were never going to listen to him repeat entire skits again. No more Minister of Silly Walks, no more quotes that had nothing to do with the situation. All gone. Was she ever going to even be in this room again, ever see anyone again? From the way that things were looking, she was going to be stuck in Houston being Natasha Delaney. And Natasha Delaney had no money, almost no family, and no way to fight.

Amanda's voice cut through Casey's thoughts. "She was your nanny. She disappeared when you did and the name she gave your dad was false."

Casey chuckled. "Dad couldn't hit our nannies when he got mad so he fired them. I think the longest one stayed was three or four weeks. I couldn't really tell you what any of them looked like."

Amanda sighed then placed the paper on the table "I'll give you my number in case you remember."

"I doubt it." Casey dryly responded.

Through this entire exchange Lizzie had stared at the forgotten envelopes. It was strange to think that a woman that she didn't know had written her a card every birthday and Christmas. She was so angry with Casey that she could barely look at her and yet she wanted to ask her about this woman. If Casey could remember all those horrible details she should be able to remember one woman (she found it difficult to call her 'grandma' because it seemed so strange considering she had no idea who this woman _was._) In the end her curiosity won out against her anger, which was telling her to never talk to her sister again.

"What was she like?" Casey paused in her furious scrubbing, obliviously confused by which 'she' Lizzie meant. "Our…grandmamma. Don't tell me that you don't remember her because if you can remember all the crappy details you must remember one woman. I wanna know!" Casey remained motionless for so long Lizzie was sure that she was just going to ignore her. She had given up all hope when she heard Casey softly say, "Her shoes clicked."

"What?" Lizzie asked. Casey turned so she faced the table and sat cross-legged on the floor.

"Her shoes clicked. I guess she wore high heels everywhere or something like that because I can remember her shoes clicking whenever we went out. And her perfume used to make my nose itch. It was like old lady perfume because I've only smelled it on old ladies. She dressed really well and her house always looked fancy but she didn't mind sitting on the floor to play with me. She had long nails and they would scratch my legs when she helped me put my nylons on. And she always bought me these dolls that I could never play with because they were breakable. And she had these necklaces, they looked like pearls but I don't think they were. She'd let me play with them and she'd laugh when I put them on because they were so long, they reached down to my waist." Casey fidgeted with the wet napkin in her hand, twisting it around her fingers. "I liked her." She finished quietly.

"Did we have a grandpa?" Lizzie asked. Casey shook her head.

"He died a long time ago. I don't know what happened to him."

"Oh. Does Mom look like her?" Casey gave the first real chuckle since Nora left and shook her head.

"Grandmamma isn't Mom's mom; she's Dad's mom. You'd think that the prim and proper grandma would be her mom, but no. Mom's mom was…loud. Well, not loud but she was always talking. Or arguing with Pops."

"Pops?" Lizzie interrupted.

"Our grandpa. We called him Pops and her Bella. Pops and Bella. I'm not sure why but…anyways, she usually wore an apron or had a towel thrown over her shoulder because she was always cooking. She didn't were nice clothes, they were kind of old-looking. Casual, I guess you could say. And she'd be doing five things at once and then she'd start yelling at someone, usually Pops and they'd get into an argument and she'd throw her hands up in the air and then start to ignore him. And she liked to hum. She was always singing or humming no matter what she was doing and she'd try to get everyone else to join in. Pops was loud too. He talked loud, sneezed loud, grumbled loud. I remember this one time we pulled up in front of the house and he was sitting outside smoking and Mom said something and he just started to grumble about something. Probably Bella. And Mom laughed and he kind of swatted her and then gave me money. He was always giving us grandkids money. Jimmy and I used to bug someone to take us down to the corner store so we could buy candy."

"Jimmy? Whose he?"

"Our cousin."

"Mom has siblings?" Casey looked mildly irritated that Lizzie kept interrupting her but Lizzie just glared right back.

"She has two brothers. I think she was in the middle because I think they called Uncle David 'baby' and Uncle Michael…I don't know. I just think she was in the middle."

"Mom was a middle kid?" Lizzie asked amazed. Her entire life she had thought her mom was older than Aunt Fiona but had grown up an only child, but now that she knew that her mom was a middle kid just like her it made her mom seem closer. Even though Lizzie was still angry with her.  
"Yeah, I remember Uncle Michael and Uncle David giving her a 'Rosie sandwich.' Well, they did it to everyone but especially to her. They'd go onto either side of her and kinda hug her while squeezing. She would try to wiggle out of it and call them names. And they'd call her Rosiekins which I know she hated. Pops used to call her that all the time." Casey paused while a soft smile flashed across her face. "Actually, I'm surprised that Dad's still alive. Pops was so mad when he found out what he did to Mom I just thought that he'd try to kill him. I remember Pops saying that no one got to hurt his girls and get away with it. He tried to hit Dad when he came to get Mom to come home. Started to yell at him and Bella and Uncle David had to hold him back. Hm." Sarah was a bit disturbed that the thought of her dad's death brought joy to this girl's face. She seemed to light up like a child at Christmas at the thought.

"Anyways, Uncle David was the fun uncle." Casey continued, "He'd pick me up and spin me around and play these crazy games with us and help us build forts and stuff. And then one day he married Aunt Penny."

"One day?"

"Well, there was more planning but it was a short engagement. I remember he brought her to Pops and Bella's for Christmas and then a couple of months later they got married. I got to be the flower girl. Jimmy was the ring bearer and I remember he stole my flowers and I had to chase him around the church to get them back." What Casey was leaving out was that her dad had hauled her behind the church and had spanked her and told her that if she didn't behave she was going to get it worse when they got home. After that she had sat patiently with the bridesmaids hoping that if she behaved she wouldn't get in trouble.

"So Jimmy is Uncle Michael's kid?" Lizzie hesitantly asked.

"Yeah, Uncle Michael's and Aunt…Livy."

"Livy?"

"I can't remember her real name; I just remember that Mom called her that. She was funny. We'd stay with her when Mom went to work. She was always so frazzled, especially when she took us out. She'd tie me, Jimmy, and Rebecca to the stroller and she always be trying to get us to stop touching stuff. And she'd always forget something so it would take us so long just to get out of the house. Oh!" Casey exclaimed in one of those moments where she would just shout out something. This flaw had made many people think she was very excitable the first time she did this. Or just crazy.

"You don't know who Rebecca is. She's Uncle Michael and Aunt Livy's daughter, along with Charlotte. Rebecca was older than you but younger than me and Charlotte was around your age. Jimmy and I were disappointed when you were a girl because he wanted there to be another boy and I wanted to be the only girl in our family." Lizzie was sure that at any other time Casey would have laughed at this memory, might have vividly shared her and this Jimmy's disappointment over her being a girl. She felt jealous that her sister could remember these people, could laugh at memories of them, yet she had nothing.

"We used to bug each other so much. I'd poke him, he'd pull my hair, I'd cry, he'd push me in the pool." Casey paused for a moment, the smile frozen on her face. "First time I ever saw someone get in trouble and not get hit. I kept waiting for Uncle Michael to start yelling and hit him but he just made him apologize. It was so strange." Casey looked down at her hands again, lost in her thought.

"That's it, that's all you can tell me?" Lizzie demanded after a moment.

"What more do you want? They were loud; everyone was everywhere. We used to have these big family dinners where everyone had to come, we'd be scrunched around the table, someone would get into an argument with someone, someone would reach for the food, and Bella would swat their hand. It was…a family dinner." Casey could see them in that dining room with the flower wallpaper and the huge dining table that took up more room than the four walls would allow. She could hear them talking, laughing, babies crying and Bella's singing carrying above the noise. If she closed her eyes, she was sure that she would be able to see them so close that she'd be able to reach out her hand and touch them. But she knew that it was a lie, that if she reached out her hand it would only encounter empty air and they would fade into fuzzy shapes and sounds. They were her family, yet they remained as they were the last time she saw them over ten years ago. Never growing older, never changing like photographs of a happier time. But unlike photographs she could remember them moving, talking and laughing and she wasn't sure what would hurt more; having them as photographs or faded memories.

"I remember when Bella would get mad at Pops he'd laugh and make her dance to their song. It was…I can hear it." Casey shut her eyes and tried to concentrate. She knew that she knew the song; she liked to listen to it because it helped her remember them. It was strange she could hear the song, see them dancing to it, but she couldn't remember what song it was. She started to hum the tune (well actually, it was just a series of notes that sounded close to the tune) and started to tap her fingers on the floor.

"Why do…birds suddenly appe…not that's not it." She said quietly "Why do…fools rush in? No." she answered her own question. Everyone had started to lose interest in her dim recollection of a song (and had become a bit worried for her sanity) when she suddenly shouted "Why do fools fall in love!"

"What?" Lizzie asked

"It's not a question," Casey sighed "it's a song. Why do fools fall in love?" Casey took in the blank faces staring back at her and suddenly felt very out-of-touch with her generation. "I know it's an old song but I know you know it." Lizzie slowly shook her head no. Casey sighed. "Why do fools fall in love? Why do birds…sing so…gay? Why do lovers praise the break of day?"

"I think it's 'And lovers await the break of day.'" Sarah interrupted.

"But you know it right?" Sarah nodded and gave Casey a half smile. Casey gave her a small smile back, feeling less alone now.

"Do you remember Lizzie, I know you've heard it." Lizzie still had no clue what song her sister was talking about but she gave her a weak smile.

"Maybe."

Casey sighed then continued with, "Were was I?...And lovers await the break of day, why do they fall in love? Why does the rain fall from up above, why do fools fall in love, why do they fall in love?" Casey closed her eyes again and started to bop to the song while drumming the tune out on the floor. Edwin was sure that she had lost it now. "Love is a losing game, love can beat the shame. I know of a fool you see. Cause…that…" Casey trailed off as a pair of headlights briefly flooded the living room and they could hear the sound of tires crunching on the snow outside. Before they heard the engine stop there was a banging, like a car door, and then muffled yelling.

'Fool is me.' George couldn't help but bitterly thinking.

"Vicky." Casey breathed, stumbling from her spot on the floor (her foot had fallen asleep) and rushed to the door. Vicky burst through the unlocked door (George had forgotten to lock it after Nora left) very un-Vicky like. It only got stranger when Casey threw her arms around her and Vicky hugged back.

"Vicky god-damnit, you don't jump out of a moving vehicle, you could have gotten hurt!" Harry said as he struggled to get in the open door while carrying a car seat. Vicky ignored him.

"Are you okay?" she quietly asked Casey, to which Casey made a noise that didn't seem a definite 'yes' or 'no'. After a moment Vicky started to squirm and flail her arms about as she tried to get Casey off her. "Okay…Casey…get…get off!" she shouted as she finally managed to push her off. She moved back from Casey as she took off her shoes and coat and scanned the room with a sour look on her face. Angela felt like she was under examination and from the look on her face she was guessing that she didn't pass.

"Okay, what's the story morning glory?" Casey gave Vicky a look while Harry exclaimed,

"That's what I want to know!" Just then the baby in the car seat started to stir. "Great." he stage whispered, "You woke up Walker!"

"Well I told you to leave him home." Vicky shot back. Harry gave her a horrified look.

"By himself? He's five months old!"

Vicky scoffed and rolled her eyes. "All you had to do was drive me here. Hell, you could have let me drive. And close the door, you're letting the cold in."

Lizzie narrowed her eyes at this exchange. Aunt Fiona had gone on maternity leave when Walker was born, so why couldn't he stay with her? In fact, why wasn't Aunt Fiona here and Harry at home with Walker?

"Where's Aunt Fiona?" Lizzie asked cautiously.

"Why don't you ask _them_" Vicky said, lacing each word with enough venom to kill an elephant. Amanda sighed and briefly closed her eyes. Would this night _ever_ end?

"Mrs. Kearney,"

"Peters." Harry cut her off. "Sorry." he apologized and shrunk back under her steely gaze.

"Anyways, Mrs. _Peters _had been taken in for questioning."

"Why?" Edwin asked.

"Cause their idiots." Vicky snapped.

"Because we find it a bit suspicious that Mrs. Delaney would be able to pose as Mrs. Peters' sister without her asking questions." Another part of Lizzie died as she thought about this. Even though Aunt Fiona is a bit of a ditz, would she just accept her mom as her sister without asking questions. And if her mom really was Rosemarie Delaney that meant…

"You're not our cousin." She told Vicky.

"Well damn, if I had known that I wouldn't have come." Lizzie stared at her (former) cousin. Vicky looked…different. She usually refused to leave the house without any makeup on and her hair done, yet she wasn't wearing any makeup and her hair was twisted up in a messy bun with random hairs sticking out. And the normally impeccably dressed Vicky was wearing a pair of light grey sweatpants and an oversized dark blue sweater with 'Paramount Canada's Wonderland' stitched across the front. She looked like she had left the house in such a rush that she didn't have time to change. And if Vicky had thought that coming here was more important that getting dressed that meant that she must have known how freaked out Casey would be. And if she knew how freaked out Casey would be that meant she must know about their dad, which meant that…_she knew._

Lizzie felt another stab of betrayal as she realized that someone else in her family had lied to her. No, make that two because there's no way that her mom could have shown up on Aunt Fiona's doorstep and said 'Hi, I'm your sister. Can I live with you?' She stared at the drawing on the table. Now that she thought about it, she could say that it was Aunt Fiona. If she squinted her eyes and shook her head it _could_ be her. But that just made the situation even stranger. Aunt Fiona aide in a kidnapping? The same Aunt Fiona who freaked out every time that she had to drive in rush hour? The same Aunt Fiona who when she was pregnant with Walker had alternated between crying spells over anything and incredible perkiness that was so freaky that even Marti hid when she came over? That Aunt Fiona? There was no way that she would even be able to think of a plan, let alone actually do it and hide it from the police for…what was it? 9, 10 years? It was so absurd that Lizzie was sure that Ashton Kutcher was going to jump out and yell 'PUNK'D!'

"Hi, are you Vicky?" Sarah asked.

Vicky lifted her head and narrowed her eyes that made everyone who knew her instantly lean back. "It's Victoria."

"Okay, so this is the girl we've been waiting for, right? So could we please call him?" Sarah asked.

Vicky narrowed her eyes. "Call who?"

"My dad, Casey quietly answered. Vicky sighed.

"Fine, lets get this over and done with." Vicky briskly stated. She started to walk towards that table only to realize that Casey wasn't moving. Vicky motioned towards the table.

"I…I…don't think I…" Casey stuttered. She had thought that she'd be alright with calling her dad, but now that she actually had to, she felt frozen in place. Vicky knew this (Casey wasn't the most secretive person on the planet) and she knew that if she didn't talk to him now she'd just make everyone around her miserable (not that she didn't do that already.)

"You know that if you don't talk to him now you're going to start to freak out because you'll have to talk to him eventually. Just bite the bullet. He's in Houston, what can he do over the phone? Casey licked her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. Vicky sighed and pulled a small notebook out of a bag she brought. "You see this? This book has the ending to every classic book ever written. At least all I could find. And if you don't move I'm going to read out every ending." Casey narrowed her eyes. "You don't believe me? Fine. Let's start with Agatha Christie's 'Murder of Rodger Ackroyd.' It's always fun to ruin a mystery." Vicky opened the book and cleared her throat. "The surprised ending is that the murder was committed by,"

"Alright!" Casey yelled cutting her off. "I knew that you could sink low but I didn't think you'd sink that low."

"Never underestimate me." Vicky said as she snapped the book closed. "Move. Now." Casey started to take tiny steps towards the table but started to move faster when Vicky grabbed her elbow and jerked her forward. Vicky pulled her over to the table and stood in front of Emily. "Hi, you move." She said to her.

"Vicky!" Casey exclaimed.

Vicky sighed and rolled her eyes. "Hi!" she said in a false-sweet voice. "I was planning on watching the second season of Grey's anatomy on DVD tonight but I had to come here to stop Casey from having a total meltdown and I need to sit beside her while we call her dad so she doesn't try to run away. So if you could move before I take the chair from you that'd be really nice." She finished with a grin that made Emily very scared.

"Vi" Casey started but was silenced by Vicky shooting one finger into the air.

"You make me miss my McDreamy, you pay the consequences."

"Techni."

"Shut up." Vicky grabbed the two chairs and pushed them together, sat in the middle and crooked her finger at Lizzie. Lizzie reluctantly moved over only because she knew that Vicky was a force to be obeyed. Vicky looked down at the table. "Damn, you got chicken for dinner? Man, I wish my mom or Harry could cook. We had reheated Mac and Cheese."

Harry started to make a noise of protest but Amanda's death glare silenced him. Vicky was about to tell them to call Casey's dad when she noticed Sam across the table.

"Hi." She purred. "Who are you?"

Sam felt very uncomfortable. "Sam. I'm Derek's friend."

Vicky turned to Casey. "Didn't you date a Sam?" Casey nodded and motioned to Sam.

"Oh!" Vicky exclaimed. She turned to Sam and rested her head on her palm. "So what's wrong with you?"

Sam looked stunned while Casey shouted "Vicky!" but she just continued. "I mean, did you not know her before you started dating because I can't imagine any sane guy wanting to date this freak show."

"I think this is neither the time nor the place for this conversation." Angela interjected.

"Fine." Vicky rolled her eyes. "Sit." she commanded Casey then grabbed her hand, pulled her down, interlaced their fingers together and propped their elbows up on the table. "It's going to be okay." She reassured her but Casey just stared solemnly at the table. Vicky sighed then smiled at Lizzie and repeated the action with her hand. "Okay, we're ready." She nodded at Angela. "Call the bastard."

Sarah pulled out her cell phone and started to dial.  
"He can't hurt you over the phone." Vicky whispered. "He's too far away."

Casey nodded. "I know, 1,460 miles."

Vicky rolled her eyes. "You're such a nerd."

"Hello, Mr. Delaney?" Sarah said. Everyone snapped their heads to watch her. "Yes, we've found them. Yes, they're fine…No, she's not…Yes she has…mhmm…yes…their sitting right in front of me…yes, they're willing to speak to you…yes, one second, I'll put you on speaker." Sarah lowered the phone from her ear, pressed a few buttons and gave Casey and Lizzie a timid smile before placing the phone on the table.

* * *

_AN: Yes, I know, a bit dry, but plot development people. Plot development! So we (you because I already know) now know that Casey and Lizzie were taken away from Nora because she was declared an unfit mother. Now the question is, why was she declared unfit, and how did this happen? Well, that comes later, but I do know how, so you don't have to worry that I'm making this up as I go along. And the characters that I mentioned (the family memebers) will become important in later chapters, do introducing them does have a point. _

_What's the story morning glory?- The name of an Oasis cd. I thought it would make a cute title._

_I didn't expect the Spanish Inqusition- I stole it from a Monty Python sketch. Basically, one person says the line, then three cardinals (the people dressed in red, not the bird) jump out and say 'Nobody expects the Spanish Inqusition!' and then proceed to torture their prisoner by attacking them with pillows and making them sit on comfy chairs. I would suggest saying the line the next time someone (preferably someone who watched Monty Python) is asking you alot of questions. It may make them laugh and leave you alone._ _It's worth a shot._

_If there is anything you didn't get and want me to explain, e-mail me and i'll send a reply. I'm on a public computer and I want to finish this. Plus, I'm really lazy. Though just too let you people know how much of a nerd I am, I actually looked up how far it is from the middle of London to the middle of Houston. I know, I'm sad._


	9. Say hello to Daddy

AN: For anyone who is still reading this story, yes, it's another chapter. For that you may thank the reminding (nagging) of my sister. For anyone who already read thischapter, (not many though) somehow the top was cut off and i realized that it was just too long for one chapter, so I re-posted it with the beginning and shortened it.

* * *

Edwin always wanted to be a superhero. Not one of those superheroes whose only claim to fame was their superpower, but the superheroes like Batman or Indiana Jones who used their brains to stop crime (yes, he considered Indiana Jones a superhero). He wanted the ability to do things better than everyone else. He'd mostly use his superpowers to do creative things like invent a device that would help him spy on other people or control time. He really thought that being able to control time would be the coolest device ever, especially when Derek was picking on him. He could stop time, tie Derek's shoelaces together, start time again and laugh as Derek fell on his face. The real reason he wanted to be a superhero was so that when he did or said something stupid he would be able to rewind time and take back what he said. It would save him a lot of weird looks and embarrassed pauses. Now Edwin just wanted to fix everything. He wanted to rewind to before these people had come to the door and just erase them. Just erase Nora from ever leaving, erase knowing what Casey's dad did to them, and especially erase the phone. No, erasing the phone would be too good for it. Edwin wanted to grab the phone, slam it on the floor, and jump on it a couple hundred times until it was nothing but fine dust that could be swept up with a broom. Because as Sarah lowered the phone to the table Casey got even paler and bit her lip so hard it looked like it might bleed. She even might have run from the room if Vicky hadn't been holding her hand (which was something that Edwin thought he'd never see, the two of them voluntarily being near each other). Unfortunately, he wasn't a superhero, Nora was still going to jail, and Casey and Lizzie's dad was on the phone.

Sarah put the phone down and there was a small moment of silence in which Casey thought that maybe he wasn't on the phone.

"Hello?" came a voice through the speaker. Damn.

"Hello, are, is, um, is anyone there?" Casey knew that she should talk to him; she was just finding it hard to make her mouth form words. Vicky could see this, and so did the only thing she could think of. She kicked her.

"Ow!" Casey exclaimed as she reached down to massage her hurt ankle.

"Hello?" her dad said again. Vicky jerked her head towards the phone. Casey took in a deep breath while ignoring her. _'Okay, you can do this.' _She thought to herself.

"Hi. Dad." Casey inwardly winced. Her voice seemed far weaker than she wanted it too be.

"Hi. Um, Natasha?"

"Yeah."

"Really, that's really you?" Lizzie looked in confusion at her sister. This was the big bad dad? The man they were talking too didn't seem mean. He sounded…normal. He had an average voice, not too high, not too low, and he seemed generally happy to hear Casey's voice. Lizzie wasn't exactly sure what she thought his voice would sound like consider that she just found out he was alive about 10 minutes ago, but she imagined it to be somewhat of a cross between Darth Vader and a James Bond villain. It wasn't. For Casey his voice brought back many memories that she thought had been long forgotten, memories of the loving father that would swoop her up in the air when he came home and of the father that had made their lives a nightmare.

"Yeah. It's me." Casey felt like someone had reached inside of her and was twisting her internal organs. "Natasha." And the hold kept getting stronger.

"Oh God, I never thought that this would happen. I mean, after all these years, God! Is… is your sister there with you?"

Lizzie quickly glanced at Casey before clearing her throat. "Um, yeah, I'm here…Dad."

"Hey, look at that, you can talk. Well, that's a bit stupid, I know you can talk, it's just that the last time I saw you all you could say was 'mine' and 'no'. God, it's good to hear your voice. We're going to have so much to catch up on. Your grandmother is going to be so excited. Hell, I'm excited never mind her! But your grandmother has been waiting for years to have you come home. She'll be so happy when she hears the news! I bet once I tell her she'll start immediately planning a big welcome home party just for you girls. Oh, I can't wait to have the two of you back home. I'll never let anything separate us again."

There was a slight pause at the end of this long speech. Lizzie glanced nervously at Casey for some hint of what she should say, but for the first time in her life Casey seemed to be at a loss for words. What exactly do you say to someone when you spent every birthday wish on his imminent death? Luckily Casey didn't have to think of an answer for this question as their father took their silence for agreement, decided to ignore their silence or just didn't realize that they hadn't responded.

"God, we're going to be so excited when you come home. We've been waiting for this for ten years now. Though Nattie, I have some bad news." Here their dad paused as if for dramatic effect. "Scruffy died."

"Oh." Was Casey's only response.

"Whose Scruffy?" Lizzie asked, wondering if they had some weird relative named Scruffy who never shaved and thought he was a lighthouse.

"My dog."

"You have a dog? But you hate dogs."

"I don't hate dogs Liz, I just don't really like them. And just because I don't like dogs doesn't mean I didn't have one." Casey explained exasperated. Everyone who knew Casey looked at her in amazement, trying to picture a little Casey with a dog while Sarah, Angela and Amanda just looked bored.

"Whose Liz?" Their dad broke through on the phone, suspicious audible in his voice.

"Um, me Dad. Ju..Juliana."

"Your mom changed your names?" There was a measured drop in their dad's voice. He no longer sounded like a nice, pleasant man, but rather like someone who Casey described. Lizzie immediately felt shivers run up and down her spine and she wasn't sure if this was a subconscious reaction to a forgotten memory or if everyone felt like she did. Vicky could feel the tension in both Lizzie and Casey's hands and squeezed their hands for comfort. Lizzie feel better, who turned and smiled at Vicky, but Casey remained motionless and stared straight ahead.

"Did she?" their dad's voice demanded.

"Ye-yeah," Lizzie stuttered.

"Goddammit, I can't believe she did that. No wonder it took so long to find you two. I can't believe she would do something like that. Goddammit!" He ended his angry rant with a shout that made everyone jump.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he sighed. "I just…I just have really missed you guys."

Amanda glanced at her watch, then leaned over to whisper in Sarah's ear, "I think we should wrap this up now."

Sarah glanced at her watch and then the phone, sighed and leaned forward.

"Sir, I think we need to wrap this up now."

"So soon? I mean, can't we talk little bit longer. I am paying you and I haven't seen them in ten years. Can't you give me just-"

"Daddy," Casey interrupted. Everyone paused and stared at Casey. It wasn't what she had said that confused them, it was _how_ she had said it. Instead of her usual light (or whiny in Derek's mind) voice, her voice sounded a bit like a child and held a bit of a southern drawl.

"Daddy," Casey said again, drawing out the syllables like Marti did.

"Yes." Came their dad's response, sounding a bit unsure about this sudden shift in the conversation. Casey shifted forward in her seat, pressing herself closer to the phone. This was her last chance to make something right. Right now she had failed her mom, failed Lizzie, and failed Aunt Fiona and Vicky. She needed this win, needed to get her dad to say that they could stay, so she was preparing to bring out all the stops.

"Daddy, I was thinking,"

'_Deep breath Casey.' _

"I was thinking that since you still live in Houston, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, since you're all the way in Houston and it's so late right now, I just thought that maybe Lizz- Juliana and I could stay here until we come down to Houston. It's just that I really don't want to go into a foster home Daddy. I want to stay in my own home."

There, she said it. Now she only had to wait to see if it would work.

"I don't know," her dad said slowly.

"Oh please Daddy, please?" Think whiny. Act like Derek. Annoy him until he gives in.

"I don't think that I want to leave you and your sister by yourselves."

_Crap. _"Well, we wouldn't be alone."

"No?"

Casey drew in a deep breath. From the vague memories she had of her dad, one that she remembered was her dad accusing her mom of being unfaithful. It hadn't been nice then, and she didn't think that her dad would be too happy now when she found out that her mom had remarried, so the idea of telling him about George made her squeamish. But she really couldn't think of a way out of this, so she slowly let out her breath and ignored Amanda, who was making slashing motions across her throat (though it was hard ignore).

"No. We'd be with…George."

"George? Whose Ge-?"

"He's our step-dad." Casey said, quickly cutting him off.

"Step-d?"

"Yeah, he and mom got married only a year ago, he's really nice-" Casey was talking so fast that the words were starting to merge into one long breath, but she was worried that if she let her dad talk, he would say no.

"I don't thi-"

"He's really nice, he's a lawyer and he's really nice and-"

"No."

"And he's got three kids. Marti and Edwin are okay-"

"I said no."

"We really need to finish this call." Sarah said, though no one seemed to acknowledge that she spoke.

"But Derek's his oldest and he's a bit annoying-"

"Nattie, no."

"Alright he's really annoying but they're all really nice and me and Lizzie don't want to leave and-"

"Natasha, I said no!" Their dad's shout seemed to reverberate throughout the living room, rattle the plates and still everyone into shocked silence, even though he was so many miles away. Well, the part about shocked silence was not an exaggeration. Even Amanda had paused in her irritated shifting to stare in silence down at the phone. Everyone, that is, except for Marti who whimpered and burrowed her head in George's shoulder and Walker who murmured in his sleep and snuggled deeper into his carrier. Derek looked enviously towards the baby, wishing that he too could just sleep through this and have someone else deal with it. Vicky quickly turned to Casey, trying to gage her reaction.

"Case?" She whispered, tugging at her limp hand, but that no effect on the suddenly still girl. Casey propped her head on one hand while sliding the other from Vicky's grasp and picking up her fork. The soft scratching sounds that the fork made on the plate was the only sound that filled the quiet room.

"Ah," their father chuckled. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to shout."

"Okay." Casey whispered, so quiet that it was barely audible.

"It's just that it's been so long since I've seen you and I'm afraid that you'll suddenly disappear again."

"Okay."

"And I'm sure that…this guy is very nice, but I don't know him and I don't know what he might do."

"George wouldn't do anything!" Lizzie said, outrage that this voice would dare slander someone who had been so nice to them.

"I'm sure he is, I just want to make sure that you're with people who are neutral in this until I can come get you," Here their father inserted a highly dramatic sigh. "Alright?"

"Okay." Came Casey's dull, monotone reply.

"Well," Angela said as she leaned forward in her seat, "I think that we need to hang up now."

"Oh, do we have to? I mean, can't I talk to them a little longer?" Their dad sounded so sad and desperate that Lizzie immediately felt sorry for any mean thoughts that she had thought about her dad. He couldn't be that bad if he sounded so upset at having to stop talking to them.

"Yes, I'm afraid that we have other things to attend to Mr. Delaney. I'll make sure that you're daughters are well taken care of. Say good-bye now girls." She turned and looked pointedly at Casey and Lizzie.  
"Good-bye Dad." They both murmured, Lizzie a bit louder.

"Good-bye girls, I love you both so much and I can't wait until I see you again. I promise that it will be soon. Bye." The sound of the dial tone filled the room for a second before Angela closed the phone with a resounding snap.

"So, what do we do now?" Emily slowly asked while twirling a piece of hair around her finger, unsure if she should even still be there.

"Well," Angela smiled "I think you should help your stepsisters pack their things and get ready to leave."

This comment made everyone look at Angela in confusion, even Harry looking confused because while he rarely visited he was pretty sure Sam and Emily weren't George's kids. Angela's smile slowly faltered as she took in their confused looks.

"George Venturi does have children from his previous marriage, right?" she slowly trailed off, then started frantically ruffling through her papers, spreading them everywhere as she searched for - something. She looked up from her papers, strands of hair flying free from her bun landing across her face.

"How many Venturi children are there?" she asked, her forehead marred in confusion.

"Three. I have three children." George answered.

"Oh my _God_." Amanda cried out. "You can't even do your job properly."

"Shut up! I was told to get the two Delaney girls, not the Venturi children. How am I supposed to know who's related to who?"

"Oh my God. This is the night from hell."

"Alright" Angela said in a too perky voice. "Whoever does not live here, raise your hand."

Sam, Emily and Harry tentatively raised their hands, unsure what this was going to do. Derek and Edwin looked at Vicky, waiting for her to raise her hand. Vicky raised her eyebrow in annoyance.

"Hey, I had to share my room with Casey for, like, four years. That gives me automatic rights to be here."

Angela cleared her throat.

"Okay, well I think you," looking pointedly at Emily and Sam "should go home now. This is a very delicate time right now."

"Why haven't you left yet? I've wanted to leave for a while now." Amanda said. Angela narrowed her eyes at her and opened her mouth to retort something back.

"It's Sam's birthday on Sunday." Everyone whipped their heads to look at the previously silent Casey, who still kept her head lowered and pushed her food around with her fork.

"So?" Sarah asked.

"Derek and Sam have this thing that their birthday's are celebrated at each others house on the closest Friday to the actual day. Sunday is Sam's birthday, so he came over here." Casey paused and lifted her head to look at Sam. "Some party huh? We really know how to throw them don't we?" She made a facial movement that might have been considered a smile, though Sam wasn't really sure. He was actually a bit scared of Casey. She seemed pale and didn't really seem to be focused on anything, which was strange for Casey considered that she always liked to be in control. "We got a cake and everything."

"Alrighty then." Angela slowly said, enunciating every syllable. "Sam," she said looking at Sam. "Ah," she said as she turned to Emily, clearly drawing a blank at her name.

"Emily." Edwin helpfully whispered. Angela shot him a quick smile of thanks before repeating. "Emily, I think you should go home now." Unsure what to do Emily and Sam looked at George for his opinion, but he just kept his head lowered, avoiding eye contact with anyone. They looked at each other before getting up from the table and headed towards the closet. There was a loud scraping sound as the kids got up from the table to say goodbye to their guests, something that had been drilled into them by Nora. They all stood solemnly around the door as Sam and Emily got ready to leave. Awkward hugs and goodbyes were passed around they delayed the inevitable. To send Sam and Emily away would make this horrible thing real, would make them realize that the next goodbye would be to Casey and Lizzie.

"Bye Em." Casey said as they hugged. Emily could feel the tears prickling in her eyes but she was determined that she wouldn't cry. At least not now.

"You're my best best friend _ever. _I'll never forget you."

Casey knew that this was a lie. She'd had many best friends before Emily and she knew that it was easy to forget someone. "Yeah. Me too." She replied.

Soon everyone had been hugged (or with Derek, Sam and Edwin a manly hand-clap half hug) and all the goodbye's had been said, there was nothing left to do but leave. Angela smiled and gave a little wave to them while Sarah looked away and Amanda impatiently raised an eyebrow.

"Bye Mr.Venturi. Thanks for, having us." Sam called out. George gave a slight head nod, the only indication that he had heard them. Sam opened the front door and a blast of cold November air rushed into the foyer. The falling snowflakes danced and twirled in the air, looking like a serene picture of peace, a sharp contrast to the misery inside. But the cold air soon provided to much for the kids left inside, and with a last longing look at Sam's retreating car Derek shut and bolted the door. They turned rather reluctantly towards the table, flinching a bit when Angela clapped her hands together.

"Well!" she exclaimed, a smile bright on her face as if this night was something to be excited about. "Let's get to work, we have to be going soon. Chop chop." She clapped her hands twice, once with every 'chop', a smile still plastered across her face. Derek, Edwin, Casey, Lizzie and Marti stared back at her, not sure of what she wanted them to do. After a brief tense moment Lizzie hesitantly asked,

"What- do you want us to do?"

Angela gave a small chuckle as if this was the silliest question she had ever heard.

"You and your sister have to go pack now. I'm taking you to a foster home for now. Let's go, we've been here far too long."

"Wha-" Casey cleared her throat. "What should we pack?" At Angela's confused look she shifted her gaze to the floor, wishing she could just disappear. "I mean, what do we pack? How long are we going to be gone?" She lifted her gaze from the floor, hoping for good news. Angela's smile faltered before answering.

"The essential, clothes, toothbrush, things you can't live without. You might not be back for a while. Whatever is left will be sent to you." Casey nodded her head while drawing her lower lip into her mouth while Lizzie sucked what air she could into her lungs and vainly reached for Edwin's hand. Not come back? This was her home, this is where she wanted to live, and yet it was slipping through her fingers faster than she could hold onto it. Angela recaptured the smile on her face and clasped her hands underneath her chin.

"Let's go." She chirped. Edwin had a horrible vision of him leaping across the room and hitting her with something until she stopped acting so happy. He shook his head at this since the last menacing thought he had was when he was nine and Derek had eaten his science project. On purpose.

"Would you like me to help you pack?" Angela gently asked, concern etched on her face.

"No." Vicky said as she pushed her chair back. "We'll be fine. We'll be ready in about fifteen minutes"

"Suitcases." Casey quietly said. "We need suitcases to put our clothes in."

"Downstairs. In my -" George paused, realizing that it really was just his room. "my room. In the closet." He finished lamely.

"I'll get them." Derek quickly volunteered, happy for a reason to get out of the room.

With a firm hand on Casey and Lizzie's arms Vicky marched upstairs with Edwin and Marti trailing behind. It was only when they reached Casey's room that Vicky faltered, her forehead creasing as her eyes darted from Casey to Lizzie's room.

"What is it?" Edwin asked worriedly.

"Nothing." Vicky sharply replied. She turned to face the crowd behind her and settled her hands on her hips in a position reminiscent of a drill sergeant. "Alright, we're going to split up. Edwin and Marti are going to help Lizzie pack while Derek and I help Casey. Whosever finished first will come to the other's room to help. Everyone got that?" Vicky finished, making the last sentence sound more like a command rather than a question but from the way that she was staring at them made it clear that she wanted an answer. When five heads mutely nodded she turned sharply on her heal and marched into Casey's room. They slowly dispersed, Casey following Vicky and Edwin and Marti following Lizzie.

Vicky looked up from Casey's drawer at Derek's entrance. He awkwardly walked into Casey's room lugging the suitcases behind him.

"Put one of the bed then give the other one to Lizzie and come back here and help us pack."

Derek raised one eyebrow at being so rudely told what to do (alright, being told what to do.) "Who died and made you king?"

"I did!" Vicky snapped, clearly irritated at being questioned. "Do it. Now!"

Derek surly deposited the suitcase on the bed before leaving, making a face at Vicky as he left. When he got back though, he stared in confusion at Casey's room. Both Vicky and Casey had gotten straight to work, and he had no idea what to do. Casey yelled at him when he touched her books, and he sure as hell was NOT going to touch any…unmentionable. Gross.

"What are you doing? Get to work." Vicky demanded. When Derek made no move to follow her she narrowed her eyes. Derek nervously shifted from foot to foot, unwilling to tell her the truth but feeling very scared of her.

"Idon'tknowwhattodo." He mumbled.

"Oh for God's sake." Vicky exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.

"He can put my clothes in the suitcase." Casey said in a robotic voice. Derek glanced between Casey and the clothes that sat in a pile beside the suitcase, before gingerly picking up a sweater. He stared at it for a moment, moving into action when Vicky dumped another pile beside him and giving him an angry look.

"You can leave my summer clothes in the dresser. I want to fit some of my book in there." Casey told Vicky. She turned back to her closet, the weight of the clothes on her arm making it ache. She reached in to pull out some more clothes when she noticed the dress. She slowly closed her fingers around the handle and pulled the flimsy material from the dark depth from which it had been hiding. The pink fabric brushed against her skin as the dress swayed in the air, her stomach clenching as memories of happier times clouding her mind. She had bought it for her mom and George's wedding, now fake wedding, an unforeseen glitch that made her angrier than it should. They had bought their dresses together, Mom, Lizzie, Marti and her. Nora had called it Girl's Day Out, but had told Casey and Lizzie that this was a chance to bond with their soon to be step-sister. Casey looked sadly down at the dress, slowly returning it to the closet. She wouldn't need a party dress where she was going.

Within a couple of minutes they had cleared out Casey's dresser and closet for any clothes that she wanted to take (Derek quickly turning his back and whistling when Casey's underwear was put in, though why he felt the need to whistle was anyone's guess) and had picked out any books or knickknacks that she wanted (more books than knickknacks) and Casey was almost ready to go. She stared sadly down at the smiling faces of her and Emily from a photo booth in the mall. The strip of pictures had been stuck on her mirror for the longest time, and Casey couldn't imagine not looking at it first thing in the morning. Plus, it was the only picture she could find of Emily in such a short time.

"Is there anything else you want?" Vicky asked, finally being sensitive to Casey's feelings.

Casey paused for a moment, trying to think of anything that she might need. "Laundry." She quickly said. Both Vicky and Derek looked at surprise at Casey, convinced that she had finally flipped her lid.

"It's not done. Mom-" here she faltered for a minute. "Mom does the laundry on Saturdays. It's Friday." Understanding dawned on Vicky.

"We'll put it in the suitcase."

"It's dirty."

"So wash it there."

"I don't know where I'm going."

Derek, finally catching on to the Casey's meaning, spoke up. "I'll wash it."

Both Casey and Vicky looked at him with confused looks on their faces.

"You? Wash? Since when?" Vicky asked.

Derek shrugged. "I don't, but how hard can it be?" Vicky paused, then turned to Casey.

"I'll do it and send it to you with the rest of your stuff." Casey seemed to like that suggestion better than Derek doing the wash and turned to close the suitcase when she paused, then whirled towards the closet.

"What are you doing now?" Vicky tiredly asked as Casey started rifling through that back of her closet. Casey reached for something at the back, turning and standing up to reveal…a shoebox. Casey opened the box and stared down at the contents. Derek hoped that it held either something valuable or dead because he was quickly getting bored. It held neither as Casey reached in and pulled out…another box. This one was at least more decorative, a pale pink with shiny gold lining with pictures of what looked like dancing couples on the sides. Casey slowly opened the box, a quiet, tinkling music pouring forth from the box.

"What is that?" Vicky asked.

"Sugar Plum Dance by Tchaikovsky."

"I wasn't talking about the song nitwit."

"It's a music box." Vicky looked ready to strangle her when Casey continued. "My Aunt Penny gave it too me. On my sixth birthday. I was in foster care but they still threw me a party." Casey gave a small humorous laugh. "My Aunt Penny. I can say that now. I don't have to pretend anymore. Oh God. I don't have to pretend. I'm going back. I'm going-" Casey's face started to make strange facial movements that Derek knew meant that she was going to start to cry. He fidgeted, shuffling from foot to foot unsure what he should do. A sudden blast of music cut through the silence, making Derek and Casey look sharply at her radio. Vicky fiddled with the CD in there, pressing buttons until she found a song she liked.

_We'll do it all  
Everything  
_"Turn it off." Casey sharply said with a hint of a tremor in her voice, showing more emotion in those three words than in the past half-hour. Vicky silently stared back at her making no move to do what Casey asked. She knew the truth and Casey hated her more than she had ever in their entire lives.

On our own

"I said turn it off. I'm not going to cry. Turn it off!"

_We don't need  
Anything  
_Casey's voice rose with each syllable become so shrill that her voice cracked. Tears started to form in her eyes. She could feel them prickling at the back of her eyeballs, but was determined not to cry. Her mom used to cry with music on. She had only been a kid but had known that whenever her mom went into her room and turned the radio on she was crying. Vicky knew what music meant as well as Casey did.

_Or anyone_

"I'm not crying!" she yelled, but the tears that ran like a fountain down her cheeks told a different story. Her face twisted with rage and with a strangled cry she lunged towards the radio. She managed only two steps before she collapsed on the floor, narrowly missing slamming on the floor by Vicky who had grabbed her in an effort to stop her from falling (a failed effort, but an effort none the less). Her sobs echoed through the room mixing with her muffled refusal to admit she was crying.

_If I lay here  
_Vicky tightened her arms around Casey, hoping that she would realize that crying wouldn't fix anything. After all, it hadn't helped their moms. But rather than subsiding Casey's sobs grew in intensity until she was sobbing so hard Vicky wasn't sure if Casey was breathing. She grimaced at her wailing cousin who was currently burrowing her face in her shirt. While it wasn't a nice shirt, Vicky was still disgusted that it was being used as a tissue.

_If I just lay here_

But Vicky had learned along time ago that family wasn't the people who share your blood, but the people who share your pain, who are willing to stand by you in your darkest hour. Ten years of lies, of whispers behind closed doors, of watching what she said had prepared her for this moment. Her mom would always say that she had been born serious. She wasn't sure about that, but she did know that her childhood had made her serious, had hardened her to the outside world. She had learned not to trust at an early age, learned that the only way to survive in this world was to stand on your own two feet without anyones help. Casey knew this as well as she did, but now she was broken, was watching her life disintergrate faster than paper in a flame, and so just this once Vicky was going to let her lean on her, let her crumble for a moment before she went out to face the rest of the world. Vicky wasn't surprised when Derek brushed past her, quickly closing the door behind him as he escaped. He had a normal childhood, had been taught that the world was a good place while she and Casey had been shown what the world really was like. She tightened her arms around her sobbing cousin (because when it come down to it they really were cousins). She couldn't blame him for leaving, for being unable to deal with this. But she could hate him for leaving like everyone else. And she did.

_Would you lie with me  
And just forget the world_

Derek sprinted into his room, his door closing with a slam in his wake. He leaned against the closed door, trying to draw air into his hyperventalating lungs. He slid his eyes to stare at the wall that seperated his room from Casey's, groaned, and slid down to the ground when he realized that he could still hear the music through the walls.

_I don't quite know  
How to say, how I feel_

'Stupid cheap labour.' He thought to himself as he placed his hands over his ears. He wasn't good with change, he didn't like it. He had denied to himself that Nora and his dad were dating, let alone engaged for up to a week before the wedding. Heck, he still had trouble believing it even as he stood sullenly at the front watching Nora walking down the aisle. And this change was just too much all at once. All this new information swam in his brain, coming forward to be processed only to be pushed away by something else. He just wanted it to stop long enough to catch his breath but he wasn't allowed that. It felt like he was swimming and was caught in a riptide and no matter how hard he swam he kept being pulled under the water.

_Those three words_

Derek felt like a failure for running. He was supposed to be strong, yet he ran like a baby when he was confronted with the truth. He should have comforted Casey, been strong for everyone, yet here he was, hiding in his darkened room. And even though he knew he should be brave, he couldn't will himself off the floor.

_Are said too much_

"I'm so sorry." He whispered into the dark, not sure weither he was apologizing to Casey or himself.

_They're not enough_

Casey lifted her head from Vicky's shoulder to take the klennex dangling in front of her face. She blew her nose, then scanned the room with red-rimmed eyes.

"He's gone." Vicky said, answering her unspoken question. A part of Casey harden with this knowlegde.

_'Bastard.'_ She thought. When she actually needed him, he ran. Her blood raged in her veins as her tears ran like fire down her cheeks. Fine, let him run. If he couldn't deal than that was his problem, not hers. If she was to stand alone, than so be it.

_If I lay here  
If I just lay here  
Would you lie with me and just forget the world_


	10. Chasing Cars

AN: Continuation of the last chapter. I really need to stop writing so much.

* * *

"I hear Houstan's nice, I mean with the Alamo and, and, being so close to Mexico it should have really good Mexican food and you like Mexican food, well you like tacos, but taco's are Mexican and you'll have a dad and a bunch of new, well not really new, but new to you relatives and I'm sure you could get whatever you wanted, and it doesn't snow in Texas so you'll get to play soccer all year round and…" 

"Edwin." Lizzie interupted.

"Yeah?" Edwin asked looking hopefully at Lizzie, glad for the interuption because he was running out of things to say and she might actually talk, something she hadn't done much of.

"Shut up."

"Oh." Edwin looked degectedly down at the shirt he was folding. The silence that Edwin had so desperatly tried to fill seemed to fill every cornor of the room, so thick that the music coming from Casey's room barely penetrated it.

"I think that's it." Lizzie declared as she placed a sweater in her suitcase, carefully scanning the room for anything that she might need.

"You sure?" Edwin asked, following her gaze around the room that he had once lived in, realizing with a jolt that with Lizzie leaving, it could be his again. But those things were too painful to think about, so he focused his mind on the task in front of him. It was easier that way.

_Forget what we're told_

"Shirts?"

Lizzie peered into her closet. "Check."

"Pants?"

"Check."

"Ot-other things?" Lizzie half-smiled at Edwin's obvious discomfort.

"Check."

"Books?"

"Not much but check."

"Toothbrush?" Lizzie rushed out of the room, reappering after a moment with the oformed mentioned object in her grasp.

"Check."

"Hairbrush?"

Lizzie moved what few objects still lay on her dresser to the side, furrowing her brow when she realized that no brush lay on her dresser. She scanned the room, moving objects every now and then, even peering under her bed in her quest for the lost object. Not being able to find it, she sat crosslegged on the floor and blew a stray hair out of her face while irritatedly scanning the room again. Her gaze fell upon the tiny girl who sat on her bed, her unusually serious face resting on the head of her stuffed cow.

"Marti," Lizzie slowly drawed out. "Did you take my hair brush."

Marti looked startled at being spoken to, then lowered her guilty face to hide in the fur of the cow.

"What?" Lizzie asked, after Marti mumbled something inaudible. The young girl slowly lifted her face.

"I like it." She explained quietly. Lizzie sighed and rolled her eyes. This was not the first time her brush had been stolen.

"Just because it's sparkly and you like it doesn't mean you can have it. Can I have it back?"

"No." Marti mumbled as she lowered her face again.

"Marti." Lizzie said, growing more irrited with every passing second. The anger she previously felt had reamerged, filling every fiber of her being. How dare her mom lie to her, how dare Casey keep their dad from her, how dare these people so effortlessly take control of her life. In short, Lizzie was pissed.

_Before we get too old_

"Give it back. Now."

Marti once again shook her head, her black hair falling across her face and swishing in the air.

"Marti." Lizzie said through clenched teeth.

Edwin, in an attempt to keep Lizzie happy, nervously said, "I'll get it."

"No!" Marti shouted, flinging her body in front of the door to block her brother's path.

"Marti, I need my hairbrush." Lizzie said while rising. Marti couldn't block both of them.

"I don't want you to go!" Marti exclaimed, spreading her arms wide in an atempt to block the door, unshead tears making her eyes glint in the light. Lizzie and Edwin stared in astonishment at the little girl.  
"You think that if I don't have my hairbrush, I can't leave?" Even for Marti, that explanation seemed a bit far fetched. But she nodded her head, her face set in that familiar assurance in her sceme. Both Edwin and Lizzie sighed and looked at each other then back at Marti. Usually when Marti needed to be talked out of an idea Derek was the one to do it, but Edwin firgured after watching Derek run into his room a couple of minutes ago that he wasn't to be bothered. So Edwin crouched down in front of Marti and tried to come up with a explanation that would sooth the crazy child. Nothing came to mind. Luckily (or unluckily, depends on how you look at it) Lizzie spoke up.

"Marti, I'm leaving here with or without my hairbrush. Since I'd rather leave with it, either you get it or I'll get it." Edwin looked worriedly between the two girls, one with her hands firmly planted on her hips and a determined expression on her face, the other looking comical with her mouth hanging open and her arms outstretched. After what seemed like a minute (4 seconds to be exact) Marti whirled around and stomped to her room.

"That was rude." Edwin said. Lizzie shrugged her shoulders and looked indifferent. Marti stomped back into the room, her face twisted with anger and eyes blazing. Lizzie sighed and looked down at the hairbrush that now lay on top of her suitcase. She hadn't meant to snap at Marti, hadn't meant to be so mean. Marti didn't deserve her anger. Lizzie sighed.

"Look Marti, I'm sorry." The brunette crossed her arms in a huff.

"I didn't mean to be so mean, it's just that I'm angry." Marti's sullen expression remained unchanged except for the slight trembling of her lower lip.

_Show me a garden that's bursting into life_

Lizzie knelt down beside her bad, regretting letting her anger out on Marti.

"I don't want to leave either, okay? And I'm angry and I took it out on you when I shouldn't have. I'm sorry." Lizzie moved so that so she was looking in Marti's eyes. "Am I forgiven?" Marti lifted one shoulder in a shrug, but leaned into Lizzie's open arms. Lizzie hugged the stiff girl, relief that she hadn't screwed up coursing through her veins.

"Just stop stealing my hairbrush, okay?" Marti lifted her head, confusion in her eyes.

"You're coming back?"

"Sure." Lizzie forced a smile on her face, feeling like her face was going to crack with the movement. She probably wasn't, but Marti would only figure this out when she was gone. She hoped. And though she didn't realize it, she was lying to Marti for the exact same reason she had been lied to. To protect her.

_Let's waste time  
Chasing cars  
Around our heads_

George stared bleary eyed as he placed the plate in the sink. He silently grabbed another plate from Angela's hand, ignoring her smiling presence. He just wanted to be alone which was why he was clearing the table, but Angela thought it would be helpful to help him. It would help if he was left alone, but he had no idea how to put that in words. It seemed like all thought had been ripped from his body and he was just working on autopilot. He silently followed Angela into the dining room and reached for another plate. Harry now sat at the table, Walker's car seat on the table. George eyed the sleeping baby as one would view an enemy. It wasn't he that was the enemy, but rather his mother. How much did Fiona know? Was she as tangled up in this as Nora was, or was she as innocent as he was? (There didn't seem to be middle road.) Walker murmered in his sleep and tried to move in the confines of the seat. They had talked about a baby. Well, joked was more like it. Adding another child to this already crowded house would be suicide. But still, a baby, a real Macdonald-Venturi, hadn't seemed like such a bad idea. Now the idea of being tied to Nora revolted him.

"Did you call a lawyer?" George lifted his weary eyes to stare at his former brother-in-law.

"What?" he asked, genually confused at the question.

"A lawyer. For Nora. I called one for Fiona. I figured that she'd need one." Sure enough there was a cell phone beside Harry. George stared at it for a moment, trying to think of what he should do next. His lawyer self agreed with Harry, but his family self was reluctant to call a lawyer. By doing that it makes what was happening real, and all George wanted was to wake up and realize that this was one bad dream. But calling a lawyer was the right thing to do, and George had always tried to do the right thing, so he found himself standing in the kitchen with the dial tone ringing in his ear trying to decide who to call.

_I need your grace_

"Hello?" George jumped at hearing a voice on the phone; he hadn't been aware he had called someone.

"Hello?"

"Hi…Andy?" George was pretty sure that was who he called, though he wasn't sure. Then again, he wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"Yeap. Whose this?"

"George. Venturi."

"Georgie! How you been?" Andy was a lawyer like him. They had met in law school and had bonded over a love of pranks. George had been his best man at his wedding, and Andy had been his at both his weddings. (the second because he didn't trust Derek with any of the responsibilities that came with being best man.) They had been friends for years, shared the trials of fatherhood and marriage and had confided in each other with things that they would never share with anyone else, yet George felt unsure with telling him what had happened.

"George. You still there man?"

George sighed and leaned against the wall for support. "I need… I need to hire you."

Andy gave a soft chuckle. "What'd Derek do?"

"It's not Derek."

"Edwin? Did he hack into some website?"

"No."

"Hm. Marti attack a clown again?"

"No." George snapped, tired of this guessing game. 'Just say it.' He thought. He drew in a deep breath and then exhailed. "It's Nora."

"Nora?"

"Yes."

"Your wife Nora?"

"Yes."

"Wow." Andy exhailed and sounded like he was leaning back in his chair. George could picture him teetering on two legs, his feet propped up with his thinking face on. "What'd she do, knock over a craft store?" Andy chuckled at his own joke and Geogre wrapped the phone cord tight around his fingers.

_To remind me_

"She kidnapped her kids." George could hear Andy breathing on the phone, in and out, in and out, as he tried to process this information. Then he laughed.

"Good one George, you almost had me!" Andy said as he tried to talk through his laughter.

"I'm not joking. She kidnapped them ten years ago from her ex-husband."

"Out of all your crazy stories, I think this takes the cake!" George inwardly groaned and rested his head against the wall.

"I'm not joking. Her real name's" here he paused, trying to remember what they had said her name was. It was sad that he didn't know his own wife's (no, fake wife's) name. "Rosemarie. Rosemarie Delaney." Angela whispered beside him. She gave him a small smile and George had to resist the urge the smack her.

"Rosemarie Delaney. There's a cop standing in my living room!"

Andy laughter slowly died off till there was silence on the other end. "You're…serious?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

Andy took in a deep breath. "Kidnapping a serious charge. There's no stature of limitations on that. Did she take them across provincial lines?"

"She took them from Houston. Texas."

"Damn." Andy swore. "She could go to jail for a while for that. How long has she had them?"

"Around ten years."

"Damn." George could hear the chair creak as Andy leaned forward. He was probably resting his chin in his hands. He did that when he was thinking. It seemed like such a normal thing to do that it didn't seem to have a place in this mess. Nothing was normal anymore.

"I need you to go down to the police station and represent her."

"Yeah, sure man. Anything you want. And listen, don't worry about my fee. This ones on the house."

George started to protest, but Andy smoothly cut him off.

"Listen, I know you would do the same for me. Though next time, your paying, how's that?"

"Sure." George knew there was no point to argue, and even if there was he was just to tired to care.

"George."

"Yeah?"

"Everything's going to be fine." They both knew they were empty words, but George found himself appreciating the effort anyways.

"Thanks."

_To find my own_

_If I lay here  
If I just lay here  
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

"Are you ready?"

Lizzie looked up at Casey who stood framed in the doorway. All her forgotten anger came flooding back at the sight of her sister.

"Yes." She sharply said as she grabbed her bulging suitcase. She brushed past Casey and Vicky, focusing her eyes on the ground to avoid looking at either one of them. Vicky leaned forward to help her with the suitcase but Lizzie swung it out of her reach while glaring at her. Vicky slowly straightened up, narrowing her eyes and raising her eyebrows.

"Rude much?"

"At least I'm not a liar." She hissed back.

"Lizzie look." Casey started in her calm, lets-talk-about-our-feelings voice. Lizzie hated that voice. All it meant was that Casey was going to take control of the situation and do what she thought was best. While Lizzie sometimes liked it when Casey was in control, now she wanted to swing the suitcase around and hit her sister. Maybe she'd even fall down the stairs. It would serve her right, the liar.

Casey could tell that Lizzie was mad at her; there was practically a neon sign above her head that flashed 'PISSED'. While Casey may have crumbled at this knowledge a few minutes ago, she felt stronger now, more in control. Turns out that having a complete breakdown does wonders for your confidence.

"I know you're angry," as if to illustrate her point Lizzie narrowed her eyes at Casey "but I trying to do what's best for us. We need to stick together, alright?" Casey reached out her hand to rub Lizzie's arm in a reasurring manner.

Lizzie wrenched her arm out of Casey grasp and hissed, "I hate you for lying to me, and I don't want to forgive you."

_Forget what we're told_  
Lizzie turned with a final glance towards her old room to the staircase and went downstairs with each stomp echoing through the house and the side of the suitcase banging against her leg. Edwin gave Casey a sorrowful glnace before he followed Lizzie down the stairs.

_Before we get too old_

"That was interesting." Vicky drying said. Casey rolled her eyes at Vicky's lack of tack and bent down to pick up her suitcase. When she straightened up, she noticed Marti staring at her, clutching her stuffed animal to her chest.

"Come on Marti." Casey said with as much cheerfulness as she could muster. Marti eyed Casey's outstretched hand and slowly shook her head.

"Marti, what's wrong?"

Marti gave a pitiful sniffle before quietly answering, "I don't want you to go."

Casey set the suitcase on the ground and knelt in front of the small girl. "Marti, I know this is hard, but Lizzie and I have to leave now. Now, how about a hug?"

"No!" Marti cried. "I want you to stay here! I promise I'll be good! I'll stop stealing Lizzie's hairbrush and I wont sing all the time and I wont bug you when you're doing you're Yogie-"

"Yoga." Casey correction went unnoticed by the wailing girl.

"And I'll eat all my vegetables and and…" Marti paused, running out of things that she could promise. "Don't go!"

_Show me a garden that's bursting into life_

Casey sighed then tried to take Marti's hands into her own. "Marti, I know this is hard, but-" she strted to explain but Marti pulled away from her.

"No, stay!!" Casey reached again for Marti, but something over Casey's shoulder caught Marti's attention. "Smerek!" she yelled, rushing towards her favorite brother. Sure enough, Derek had come out of his room and was leaning against the wall, his hands jammed in his pockets. He lifts his head when Marti collides with his crossed legs. All mirth seems to have drained from eyes, and were void of his usual twinkle. Casey looked point blank at him, aring him to come up with an explanation as to why he left (not that she needed one, it's just common courtesy to give a reason as to why you've left in the middle of someone's breakdown.) But to her surprise he lowered his head when she caught his eye, as if he were ashamed of what he had done. He instead knelt down in front of a barely composed Marti and softly drew her near to him.

"Make them stay." She pleaded, completely assured that Derek could fix this. Derek sighed and ran his hands trough his hair.

"Smarti, I can't do anything. They have to leave." Marti's expression went from sorrow to shock then to anger in quick succession. She pushed away from her fallen idol, one soletary tear travelling down her check.

"Great job Smerek." Vicky remarked as Marti rushed down the stairs before following her.

"Casey." Derek weakly started. Casey shook her head and fiddled with the straps of her suitcase.

"Forget it." She quietly said as she turned away and walked down the stairs.

_All that I am_

"Daddddyy!" Marti yelled as she ran to George, looking more like a blur than a seven year old. George lifted weary eyes from the tablecloth to stare at his youngest. Marti's lip trembled as she climbing George's lap.

"Daddy?" she whimpered. "Make Casey and Lizzie and Nora stay. Pleasssse? I'll be a really good girl, I promise!" she pleaded, her eyes filling with tears. George was at a loss as to what to say that would comfort Marti. He looked helplessly at Derek, hoping that he would help him out, but Derek seemed to find the carpeting very interesting.

"Marti." George sighed as he tried to come up with a way to apease Marti. Marti, however, realized what her dad was trying to do.

_All that I ever was_

"Make them stay." She commanded George.

"Look Marti." He tried again.

"Make them stay!" she shouted, making Walker stir in his sleep.

"No, Marti. I can't." Marti's lower lip tremebled uncontrollably as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. When George started to put his arms around the shaking child she pushed him away and rolled off his lap.

"I…I…I hate you!" she screamed, her face red and blotchy.

_Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see_

"Marti." George tried again, but Marti ran towards the couch and buried her face in the pillows, her loud sobs soon joined by Walker's as he was woken up.

"We need to be going." Angela softly said, placing a hand on Casey back and slightly pushing. Casey reluctantly put on her coat, feeling like she was betraying Marti as she zipped up it up. She stared at the crying girl, then closed her eyes as she was bombarded by memories of the past.

'_Mommy, I don't want to go!'_

'_Listen Nattie, it'll only be for a little while.'_

'_But Mommy, I wanna stay here with you!'_

'_I know sweetie, but you need to go. I promise I'll come to visit you as soon as I can, and I'll call as often as they allow me.'_

'_I'll be a good girl Mommy, please let me stay!'_

Casey snapped her head up, that snippet from the past giving her an idea. She walked over to the couch (ignoring Angela's objections) and knelt down beside Marti.

_I don't know where_

"Marti." She said. Marti's only reaction was to flinch away from the hand Casey dropped on her shoulder.

_Confused about how as well_

"Marti." She tried again. "Marti I know your angry. But I want to give you something." Casey knew Marti would never pass on a gift, and sure enough, Marti lifted her tear streaked face from the pillows. "But you have to stop crying and listen to me, okay?" Marti sniffled and whiped the tears from her eyes. "Okay. A long time ago, some people came to the house where we were staying and told my mom that Lizzie and I had to go with them."

"Just like now?" Marti sniffled. Casey nodded

"Just like now. And like you, I didn't want to leave."

"You didn't?" While Casey had yet to produce the gift, stories were her 3rd favorite thing (after ice cream and gifts of course), so Marti pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"No. And I told my mom that I didn't want to go. In fact I cried just like you. And you know what my mom said?" Marti shook her head. "She said that we would see each other again one day, that one day we would live together again. And to make sure that we would see each other again she gave me…do you know what a rosary is? No, well, never mind it doesn't really matter. But the thing is, her gramndmother gave her this rosery and it had roses on it, because her name was Rosemarie, alright. And she loved this rosary, and she gave it to me saying that she wanted it back, and to get it back we had to see each other again." Marti slowly nodded, not sure of where this conversation was going. By now Casey had the attention of everyone in the room, even Amanda stood in silence waiting for the ending. Everyone except Lizzie, who was trying to think of her mom as religious. While they had gone to church a couple of times every year and she had said prayer before she went to bed when she was young, she didn't think her mom was religious enough to hold a rosary as a prize possesion. Then again, an hour ago she thought her name was Lizzie Macdonald, so maybe her mom was really a nun or something. Casey, oblivoius to all of this, picked up the box that she had retrived from her closet. She held it for a moment, lightly tracing her fingers over the gold ridges, before opening it and removing it's contents and placing them in her pocket. She held the box up.

"You see this box?" Marti slowly nodded. "This box." Casey paused for a moment. "This box was given to me by my Aunt Penny. She was a dancer, and she knew I liked dancing, so she gave me this box for my birthday. I used to listen to it all the time, and it would be the first thing I would see when I woke up. I want you to have it. On loan."

"So you have to come back to get it." Marti said, slowly understanding.

"Yes, I promise that one day I'll come back and see you because you have my music box." Marti revertly held in it her lap, studying the dancing couples.

"Alright, no more tears?" Marti nodded, then threw her arms around Casey.

"I'll miss you." She whispered.

"I'll miss you too. And make sure Derek doesn't touch my box, alright?"

Just know that these things will never change for us at all

Marti nodded, then pulled back and picked up her stuffed cow. She paused for a moment, then pressed the record button. "By Casey and Lizzie. I'll miss you. Come home soon."

She pressed the cow into Casey's hand. "Take him. So I know you'll really come back."

Shock was on everyone's face (at least, those who knew how important the cow was to Marti.)

"But Marti, you love that cow." Lizzie said in surprise. Marti shrugged her shoulders, then slipped off the couch.

"Bye Lizzie, I'll miss you." She said as she hugged Lizzie's knees, then curled up in George's lap, sucking her thumb and clutching the box. There was a small silence for a moment, before Angela quietly said, "We really need to be going."

Casey pushed her feet into her boots, then grabbed her running shoes and placed them beside her suitcase and the cow.

"Bye Edwin." She pulled Edwin into a tight hug, closing her eyes for a moment to remember this moment. She had no idea when she would see him again, and wanted to remember him, even down to his weird cologne/smoke bomb smell. Hugs were passed around to everyone except for George, who sat tightly holding Marti as if afraid that if he let go she too would slip away. Derek awkwardly ruffled Lizzie's hair.

"Keep up those skills that I taught you. You'll be the best hockey player in Texas."

Lizzie laughed for what felt like the first time in years. "I don't think there's ice rinks in Texas."

Derek shrugged. "Their loss."

Lizzie reached down for her suitcase, only to have Derek swoop down and grab it.

"I'll take it. It must be heavy." He said as way of explaination. It felt good, doing something rather than just sitting around.

"Bye George." Lizzie shyly said, waving when he looked up. George managed a weak smile before he returned his gaze to the floor. Everyone else (excluding Harry and Walker) walked outside, those without coats crossing their arms in an effort to stay warm. The slam of the trunk sounded magnified in the silence of the night, the air turning white with the exhail of every breath. Amanda opened the back door of her car and motioned for Casey and Lizzie to get in. With on last look at the house Lizzie slid in first, followed by Casey. A flicker of light flashed across the lawn as Emily appeared in her front window, sadly waving goodbye. Casey lifted her hand and waved back, watching Emily stand in the warmth of her own house, where she would sleep in her own bed tonight. It was funny what a person became jealous of when they had nothing. The engine broke the stillness of the night and backed out of the driveway. They all started frantically waving, even continuing when the harsh red brake lights drowned out any silouette of Casey and Lizzie, and soon the only evidence that Casey and Lizzie had been there were a couple of foot prints and tires tracks in the snow, all to quickly being filled up by the falling snow and erasing even those markers.

_If I lay here  
If I just lay here  
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

* * *

Song: Chasing Cars

Excerpt from next chapter :

_Fiona felt a bit creaped out that someone could be watching her and she couldn't watch them back. That was probably the point; make her nervous so it'd be easier for them to get what they wanted from her. Of course, she had something they didn't. Complete and absolute fear. Their lives wouldn't change with the outcome of her interview._


	11. Two roads to walk down one road to chose

_AN: Score, another chapter, and so soon too! It's a record. Alright I forgot to mention some things, so here they are:_

_1.The rosary- I didn't put that in randomly, it has a reason. Go listen to the song 'Birmingham' by Amanda Marshall. There's a line that says 'And as she drives she rubs her rosary/She's never been so all alone she's never felt so free'. The line will have some significance later one, but not much. Other than that, i could have put anyother religious/material article in there. The line just happened to mention a rosary._

_2. Walker- a cookie goes to anyone who figures what author he is named after. Hint- Oprah loves her._ _Another hint- think purple._

* * *

Fiona wanted to cry. It was a common reaction for her; she had always been emotional. She had high highs and low lows and very mixed in-betweens. She cried when she was happy, she cried when she was upset, she cried whenever a character in a book or movie died, no matter how many times she had seen the character die. She cried when there was a happy or sad ending (it didn't really matter which one.) She cried so much that when she watched movies with Nora, Nora would bring over an unopened Kleenex box just in case. So it was a normal reaction for Fiona to want to cry. After all, she was in an interrogation room in a police station being asked questions about a kidnapping that she helped make happen. What else was she supposed to do?

Nora would freak if she were in a room like this. The room was dingy and looked like no matter how much someone cleaned there was a layer of grime would not leave the room. The paint was peeling in some places and one of the light bulbs was flickering which made Fiona feel like she was having a seizure. She had been left alone in the room for sixteen minutes and 36 seconds (she had been watching a clock since she had been placed in here.) Fiona ignored the one-way mirror on one wall because she had no idea if someone was on the other side watching her.

'_Obviously, that was the point of one-way mirrors stupid.'_ She reprimanded herself. She felt a bit creeped out that someone could be watching her and she couldn't watch them back. That was probably the point; make her nervous so it'd be easier for them to get what they wanted from her. Of course, she had something they didn't. Complete and absolute fear. Their lives wouldn't change with the outcome of her interview,

(_'Would it be considered an interview or questioning?'_ she wondered) while her and Nora's hinged on her getting the facts right. Of course, it wasn't the real facts. Nope, the fake facts they made up ten years ago. It seemed like a lifetime ago that they had been two scared, lonely women who believed that they had nowhere to turn to, no one who would help them. Maybe it was a lifetime. Look at them now. Mothers, wives, career women. Though they had been all that when they met. So maybe nothing had really changed. Maybe they were still sitting on that bench in the park, watching Vicky (Victoria. She really had to remember that) and Casey play on the jungle gym while they compared bruises and sob stories (Nora always won with the bruises, Fiona always won with the sob stories.)

Her head snapped to look at the door as the doorknob rattled and two men walked in. One was older, with a beard of mostly grey, a balding head and a beer belly while the other was much younger with piercing green eyes and half a tattoo that was visible with his shirt sleeves rolled up. Victoria would call him a hunk. She flinched as the younger cop dropped a folder on the table. They both pulled out chairs, the screech as the legs dragged on the floor magnified in the quiet room. The younger man sat in a dignified manner, folding his hands and keeping his back straight and never taking his eyes off her while the older man leaned back in his chair and looped his thumbs in his belt buckles. Fiona shifted a bit under their gazes, wondering if she was supposed to speak first.

"Do you know why you're here?" Fiona was so glad for the question she had to hold back tears (or maybe they were tears of sorrow. She wasn't sure.)

"No. Did I do something wrong?" she answered while trying to return their gazes. The older man shifted in his chair.

"How long have you known Ms. Venturi?"

"About ten years. She was conceived in one of my dad's previous relationships before he married my mom. Nora's mom never told my dad about her and when she died, Nora decided that she was going to look for him. Why, is something wrong with Nora?"

'_Good girl, play dumb. People believe that you're not that bright, give them the deer-in-headlights look.'_ The men looked at each other, as if they didn't really believe her story. It was really a flimsy cover. She had liked the one they had made up in the beginning. Why wasn't she going with that one? Right, because Nora made her promise not to. And she was a coward.

"So you never met your sister before that?"

"No." she gave them what she hoped was a convincing smile. "If I did I don't remember. I didn't even know I had a sister until she showed up." That was a blatant lie. Not that she didn't have a sister, that part was true. Her parent had gotten married late in life; her mother had been married once before but had spent much of that marriage caring for her dying husband while her father had been a confirmed bachelor who liked having his things left right where he left them. After about three years of knowing each other her mother had done a bit of campaigning and convinced him to marry her, and about seven years into their marriage she had been born. So no one had really questioned that her dad would have a child from a previous relationship and not know about it. The lie? Not knowing Nora before she became her sister.

"Did you know that you both lived in the same city?"

"No, I didn't. When was this?"

"You both lived in Houston between the years 1989-1994." Fiona felt a bit of her blood run cold at the mention of Houston. God, she hated that city. The only place she hated more was Las Vegas. So many bad memories in both.

"Really? Huh. Nora said that she lived in Seattle before moving here."

"So you're sure that you two didn't meet before she introduced herself as your sister?"

"I think so. Like I said, I might have met her and not known who she was. I have a bad memory for faces."

That was a lie. She had always had a good memory for faces; it was names that escaped her. And she could clearly remember the first time she saw Nora. She had been working in the ER helping with the overflow; Nora had been there with a burnt arm. She remembered the smell of the hospital, the irritation of cranky people as they waited for their turn to see a doctor. She didn't want to be working. She was four months pregnant and had taken another shift because her no-good husband had spent their rent money and she didn't want to move in her condition. (She did end up moving two months later, but that was irrelevant to this story. Just another point to the 'reason's why marrying Chris Kearney was a bad thing' side of the list.)

She had gone up to the front desk to get a file when _he _had come up, complaining that they had been waiting for two hours and had yet to see a doctor. She wasn't sure why she insisted that they be taken to a room. Maybe it was the way that Nora had shrunk behind him, maybe it was the way that she tugged her sleeve down over her arm while darting her eyes around the room to make sure nobody noticed, maybe it was the way that he managed to seem in control even when he wasn't. Whatever the reason she had convinced the nurse to let her take them to a room to wait for a doctor and that she'd look after them in the meanwhile. She had taken them to a room where Nora quickly nodded her head in thanks and gave the briefest of smiles while he just complained about the wait. She had been asking routine questions about how Nora's arm was hurt when his cell phone had rung and after about a minute she convinced him to take the call outside (apparently the rule that no cell phones should be operated in a hospital because they could interfere with the equipment was just a suggestion.) He had looked nervous for a second, then smiled his Chester cat smile that she'd soon hear all about and gave Nora a look.

"_You'll be okay right?"_ he had asked. The question didn't mean what it sounded like. Instead of a husband's concern over his hurt wife, it was a warning. 'Say you're alright because that's how it's going to be.' Nora had nodded her head

"_Yes."_ She had responded. Her response didn't mean what it sounded like either. It said 'Yes, I'll cover for you, I'll lie for you, I'll be the good little wife.' He gave Nora a quick peck on the check and a promise to be back soon and left to finish his call. The only thing he hadn't counted on was Fiona knowing what was really being said.

"_So."_ She had said as she smiled her nurse-I'll-make-chit-chat-so-this-will-go-faster smile. _"What happened to your arm?"_ Nora had smiled back, smiled with her don't-ask-me-too-many-questions-because-I-want-to-live-in-my-world-of-dilusion smile.

"_I fell. Stumbled. Knocked a pot of water onto my arm. Silly me."_ Later Nora would tell her that they had been in a fight and he had pushed her, which caused her arm to fly out and tip a boiling pot of water over. But now she lied. The thing Nora hadn't counted on was her knowing. Fiona hesitated for a moment, then lifted her sleeve to show the fingerprint bruises on her arm.

"_I fall too."_ Nora had lifted her eyes to hers, hope and surprise flashing in her eyes, the first emotions that she had seen since they had first met.

"_Oh."_ She had breathed. She looked down for a moment, then quickly lifted her head and stuck out her hand._ "I'm Rosemarie Delaney."_

"_I know."_ She had laughed. _"I looked at your chart."_ Nora chuckled and gave her head a little shake.

"_Of course. That was a bit of a blond moment."_ She laughed and shook Nora's outstretched hand.

"_That's okay. I'm Fiona Kearney."_ They had shared a smile, the smile of two women who found something in common that they could bond over. Just then the doctor had come into the room to finish up, and she had left to assist another doctor.

"So you never saw her?" Fiona snapped out of her memories, the Houston hospital fading as the room came into focus.

"I don't think so." The men looked vaguely annoyed at her. She could almost see what they were thinking; _'What does she think she's doing? How could she possible think that anyone would believe a story like this?'_ She wanted to scream, just scream and scream at them that they had no idea why she was telling a lie, why she had helped commit a crime, why Nora had done this in the first place. They had never watched their child cry, they had never locked themselves in the bathroom to escape the terror, they had never said _'I do'_ to one man and ended up living with another. It changes a person, makes them do and say things that they normally wouldn't have said. She heard a chair creak and groan as one of the men leaned forward in their chair but she refused to look up.

"Do you know who Rosemarie Delaney is?"

'_Yes.'_ "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." She heard the chair creak again as the man sat back, then some rustling as a paper was slid across the table. It was a wanted poster, Nora's face staring up at her. _'Oh Nora, how did we get here?'_ she thought, but aloud she said,

"That's Nora."

"The woman that you know as Nora MacDonald is actually Rosemarie Delaney. She's wanted for kidnapping her children from her former husband. She's going to be charged and sent to prison. Lying for her isn't going to help her anymore. It will be easier to you if you just tell us the truth. You might be able to strike a deal to get no jail time at all."

She was quiet for a moment, trying hard not to cry as she stared down at the chipped table. _'Fuck life, it aint nothing but a sick illusion as we race to be six feet under.'_ She read, the pen faded as if someone had tried to scrub the writing off the surface. Well, at least it wasn't a phone number asking for a good time. It really was disgusting what some people would write with no regards for the person who would read it.

"I thought she was my sister." That wasn't really a lie. They were sisters in spirit, closer than friends, bonded through similar life experiences. They just hadn't started out sisters. After that first meeting she didn't see her for about a year. When they next met Nora was struggling to push a stroller with a screaming child down the hospital hallways with one hand in a tenser bandage. She had bent down to pick up a small toy that had been thrown from the stroller when she recognized Nora. They had smiled at each other and had exchanged pleasantries. She had cooed over Casey (then Natasha) and told her that she had a daughter around that age and they should get together and set a play date. Nora had agreed and asked for directions for the exit and they had exchanged numbers and left. Ten minutes later she realized that she had put the offending toy in her pocket. She tried to find her but failed and so the next day had strapped Victoria into her car seat (her husband had been at work, one of those rare days when he actually went) and had driven to Nora's house to return it. She had been amazed by the grandness of the house (well, anything compared to her shitty hole-in-the-wall apartment was grand), she returned the toy, Nora invited her in for tea and they started their friendship. They would call each other up for play dates, find a park, stick the girls on the swings and chat about anything from the weather to how shitty their marriages were. Nora confided how ashamed she was to admit to her family what was going on, how sure she was that he'd get better and stop. Fiona confided how scared she was to call her parents and tell them even where she was. She was afraid that if she called them, they would hang up the phone or tell her that she was no longer their daughter.

She had been in her second year of university when she met Chris Kearney. Within four months he had swept her off her feet and convinced her to run away with him to Houston. Her parents had forbidden it and her father had told her not to come crying to them when he left her. The last words she had spoken to her parents (yelled really) was that she hated them. They went to Vegas and were married with only his friends present and moved to Houston to start their life together. What she didn't know when she married him (or didn't want to realize) was that he was a gambler-sometimes-alcoholic. He would take their money and spend the night out on the town losing every poker hand and stumble home smelling like cheap cigars and liquor to either beg her for money (_I'll win it back, I swear!_) or to pass out on whatever surface was available. The only times he hit her was when she refused to give him money (silly her for wanting it for stupid stuff like clothing for their daughter or rent to keep a roof over their heads) and he would go crazy and grab her and hit her until she relented and gave him the money.

It was around Victoria's fourth birthday that she finally had enough. She was tired of being yelled at, tired of struggling to support them because he couldn't keep a job, tired of shopping at discount stores because she couldn't afford anything better. Just tried of everything. So she kicked him out and bought herself a tub of Rocky Road ice cream (the irony was not lost on her) and watched 'The Godfather' while blubbering. It was about two weeks later when he came back. He let himself in with his key (she had never changed the locks) and had started to fight with her. He had started to beg her to take him back, then switched to begging for money and when that didn't work he hit her over the head with a lamp. She woke up in an ambulance to find out that he had taken Victoria and had left a ransom note. She had cried over her stupidity but drained her bank account against everyone's opinion and set out to pay him. Nora came to her bedside with flowers and wishes of hope; she gave Nora her wedding ring and told her to sell it.

"_Please, I need the money. I'm not going to be able to pay the hospital bill and get Vicky back._ Please,_ do this for me."_ Nora had remained quiet for a minute, then took the ring and left. She came back the next day with more money than she should have gotten for that small ring. Nora had pressed the extra bills in her hand and told her to take them.

"_Please,"_ she had begged _"from me to you. Take it and get her back."_ She took the bills and paid the people that Chris owned money to and he didn't give her back. She had screamed when she found out he duped her, screamed and screamed and cried and screamed that he had taken the most precious thing she owned and refused to give her back. One of the girls that she worked with had given her Ricardo Perez's number.

"_He's really good. I hired him when my husband was cheating on me. I know this is different but he's not afraid to, you know, not follow the law exactly. He could help you."_ So at the end of her rope she had called him up and had hired him. Nora had offered to pay for it but she refused after she saw the barely concealed bruise that took up half her face. She didn't know if it was because Nora had given her money even though she had seen her dump her purse looking for spare change more than once or if it was something else, but she wasn't running the risk of her friend getting hurt. So with Nora holding her hand she called her parents. They had cried, she had cried, Nora had shed a couple of tears and Casey had pushed over the toy she had been playing with. Her parents flew down and begged her to come home, she agreed, and then the police found Victoria. She got some of her money back along with a quick divorce (complete with restraining order) and had said good-bye to her best friend. She gave Nora her parents address and phone number and had fully expected not to see her again, that their friendship would slowly wilt and fade until it became nothing more than a memory.

"So you have no idea how Mrs. Delaney found out about you and your family?" Fiona drew in a shuddering breath, trying to buy herself some time.

"I…must have accidentally told her. We didn't really ask many questions, we believed her story. It sounded so believable." Did she sound like a shocked woman, with disbelief laced in her words over this betrayal? It really wasn't a betrayal, she had helped plan this. The Christmas after she left she received a card from Nora, proudly proclaiming that she had left him and was living with her parents. She sent her a card back, telling her how proud she of her was. It was a couple of months later when Nora had called her in tears.

"_He took them!"_ she had sobbed, _"He took them away from me. The goddamn fucking judge sided with him and gave him custody. Goddammit!"_ She had listened to her friend sob and had said the only thing that came to mind.

"_Steal them."_

"_What?"_

"_Steal them. You know that he's just going to hurt them again. Steal them and hide them and say that you'll give them back when they re-open your case."_ Nora had refused, but had asked for Ricardo's number so she could try to find evidence that he had screwed her over. It was only when Casey had ended up in the hospital that she had agreed.

"_How exactly would I go about this kidnapping thing?"_ She had softly asked after her full-blown rant complete with crying and the kicking of the phone booth wall had quieted down. She had offered to do whatever she needed her to do to repay for Nora's help when Victoria went missing.

"Your parents didn't question? Your father didn't question this?"

Her parents had helped. They had been worried when she had started waiting by the phone, sneaking around the house and losing sleep. They had confronted her and she had broken down and told them the truth, what she and Nora were planning. She begged them not to tell, saying that after all Nora had been through she needed to protect her children. Her mother had teared up but her father's reaction surprised her.

"_Does she have anywhere to go?"_

"_No. She's just going to run."_

"_She'll come here. She can live here. We'll say she's…she's my daughter. From a previous relationship. Tell her to come here."_

Her mother had protested and she had questioned but they both stopped when her dad pointed out that without Nora she might have never gotten the courage to call and she had helped her out when she had needed it, so it was their turn to help Nora. Her mom had relented and agreed.

"_It may be wrong but what's been done to her was worse, so I guess the end will justify the means."_

Looking back it was more than a little weird that her parents had so readily agreed to harbour a criminal. Before they helped Nora, the worst thing they had ever done was get a parking ticket. But every child needs a place to run to they told Nora when she protested, and if she really was doing this to help her children then she would want them to have a place to call home. So her parents took some money out of the bank, rented a cottage for Nora for a summer, took her in when she emerged into society as Nora Macdonald, emotionally adopted her and the girls as their own, fed them, put a roof on their heads, all on her word that what Nora was doing was the best thing for Casey and Lizzie. Sometimes she was sure that aliens had abducted her parents and had replaced them with pod people; it was the only rational explanation she could come up with.

"So you have no idea how Rosemarie Delaney ended up here or how she kidnapped her children?"

"Nope."

Of course she did. Nora and she had planned their escape for months before they actually executed it. Nora had known of his inability to keep a nanny for an extended period so she had just driven down to Houston, had Nora fire the current nanny and give her an enormous 'severance' parting gift while she called him and told him that his current nanny had quit over his treatment of her and she was the replacement. He hadn't really cared (just complained about the lack of respect in today's employee's) and told her when to arrive. She showed up on his doorstep with a blond wig, fake glasses and a horrible Southern accent. Four days later it had been Friday, he had left for work with instructions on when to take Casey and Lizzie for their overnight visit with Nora, she had called Casey's school and told her she wouldn't be coming in that day, packed their things and left. It had been the most stressful drive she had ever taken, constantly listening to the radio for any report of missing children, fighting sleep while keeping a steely gaze on the odometer to make sure that they stayed exactly at the speed limit, focusing on not getting into an accident. She had never been happier to drop someone off then when she pulled up in front of that cottage door.

"We're just here to help you. Are you sure there's nothing you can tell us?" Fiona hesitated. Would it really be all the bad to tell them her part in this? While it wouldn't help her it might take some of the heat off Nora. What's the worst that could happen to her if she confesses anyways (besides the obvious going to jail)? These people obviously didn't believe her story (it really was the stupidest piece of crap since the time that she told Victoria the reason why she couldn't go to the North Pole with Santa was because his sleigh was very fragile and her weight would cause the sleigh to collapse and crash in a fireball that would burn all the toys. No matter what anyone said, she refused to believe that it was bad parenting considering that it was 3 in the morning and she had already caught her trying to climb out of her bedroom window onto the roof twice before. Of course, this little lie meant that she spent the next couple of days convincing Victoria that no, she wasn't fat.) The original plan was that she was going to say that her parents were the innocent ones, that she and Nora had made this plan by themselves and had fooled her parents into believing it. Oh, why couldn't they just stick to it? Could she really just betray Nora just to save herself? Technically, Nora was the one who had begged her to save herself.

"_Don't sacrifice yourself to help me. Promise me Fiona, promise, that if we're ever caught, you'll lie. Just lie." _Fiona could clearly hear the rumble of voices and clattering of everyday life as she saw herself sitting in her parents' bedroom, sitting on the cold floor as she stared at the closet. Her dad had just died five days ago in this memory, her mom eighteen months before. That was the main reason why Nora had made her promise not to tell anyone. Her parents were going to take care of the girls, and dead people couldn't take care of kids. Theoretically, of course. She had been sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed contemplating whether or not she could put off packing away her dad's things for another day (she hated the finality of it, knowing that he'd never wear any of them again, regretting all that she didn't get to say to him while he was alive) when Nora had come in and sat down beside her.

"_I put a movie on for the kids. Chitty Chitty Bang Bang."_ She had continued to stare at the open closet door, knowing that she had to go in there and clean it out but not being able to will her body to move. Nora had pushed a strand of hair off her face, then had wrapped her arms around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. They had sat there for a while, both dreading to touch a dead man's clothes. And that's when Nora had changed it.

There was a knock at the door; Fiona lifted weary eyes to the door, grateful for the distraction. The younger cop leaned against the door, talking quietly to whoever was on the other side. He moved back to the table, a middle-aged woman following behind him.

"Hi, I'm Mrs. Parvarti, Mrs. Peters attorney."

She rested her briefcase on the table and sat down beside her. "You don't have to say anything to them." She instructed Fiona.

"You have circumstantial evidence at best. Unless you have a witness that can tie my client to this, then I suggest you let her go."

The older cop ignored her and leaned forward in his chair. "You know more than you're telling us, don't you?"

"Don't say anything." Her lawyer commanded.

"Miss?"

"_Lie."_

"_What?" _she had asked, lifting her head off her sister's shoulder.

"_Lie. If…if they find us, if we get caught, I want you to lie. We always planned on having your… them alive if we got caught, so they could take care of Casey, Lizzie and Vicky. But now that they're gone, there's going to be no one to take care of them. So I want you to lie."_

"Mrs. Kearney, we can't keep this offer on the table forever. We need an answer."

"My client ddin't do anything wrong."

"_I can't do that. That's not the plan. Plus, no one's going to believe that I just accepted you as my sister without asking questions. What kind of idiot would do that?" _Now Nora had placed her hand on either cheek and turned her face so they were facing each other. Her gaze had held an assurance that had been lacking for so many years, strength that had never had a chance to flourish until she had to beat the devil at his own game.

"_Lie." She commanded in an unwavering voice. "Lie and say I duped you. Say you had no idea who I was until I said I was you're sister. They're going to be suspicious but they're not going to have the evidence to charge you with anything. Someone has to take care of the girls, and I don't want you too lose Vicky. What's going to happen to her if you go to jail? Whose's she going to live with? Chris? He can't even take care of himself!"_

"Mrs. Kearney?"

"_Please Fiona, promise me. Lie. Don't sacrifice yourself to help me. Promise me Fiona, promise, that if we're ever caught, you'll lie. Just lie." _Oh, but Harry could take care of Victoria now. Could she really betray Nora, lie about their relationship, what happened and let her take all the heat. It wouldn't be fair, to let her take the fall for the things that she had done. But did she really want to go to jail, be away from her husband and her children? She wanted to talk to Nora, to clarify which path she should take. But she had to be strong, make this decision on her own. Fiona immediately wanted to burst into tears. This was the reason why she wasn't allowed to make decisions. She was too emotional and could never make a decision. She always went back and forth until someone made the decision for her. _'Oh Nora.'_ She wanted to cry. _'Do I really leave you, lie and deny you just to make things easier for myself? Is that what a real sister would do? Oh Nora, what do I do??'_ she silently lamented but no answer came to her, no clear path presented itself.

"Mrs Kearney?"

"It's Peters." Fiona said as she lifted her head and sniffled, fighting back tears and swiping her eyes with the hem of her sleeve. "It's Peters. I remarried."

'_Promise'_ Nora whispered in her ear. _'Oh Nora.'_

"I thought…I thought she was my sister." She finished softly, trying to return these men's gazes. "I don't know any more than you do. I thought her name was Nora Macdonald and she was my sister. I'm sorry. No." She managed to get out before she had to squeeze her lips shut to stop the scream that threatened to come out. She could see the disappointment written on both their faces, disappointment that she wasn't going to help them. They waited for a moment hoping would change her mind but she refused.

"Okay."

"Okay." She gave a trembling smile before reaching down for her purse. Her lawyer placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but to Fiona it felt like bugs were crawling on her body. They let her leave first, holding the door open for her and everything. Fiona felt like she was in someone else's skin, watching through someone else's eyes. Her body felt strange to her as she walked though the hallways, threading herself through people who had places to go and people to see and were sure that they were doing the right thing.

She wasn't sure how she got home. One moment she had been in the police station, the next she was standing on her front porch. If she had been more with it she might have been a bit concerned considering that she didn't bring her car to the station but she just reached for her key and unlocked the door. The house felt like a morgue, quiet and stifling as if it was holding its breath. Her footstep reverberated throughout the house as she moved from room to room. Victoria was lying stretched out in her bed, the covers twisted dangerously around her legs. Walker was lying on his back with one fist in his mouth while the other gripped the bars of his crib. Harry had obviously been waiting up for her because he was propped up in their bed with the TV on. She kissed each one of them on the forehead before walking downstairs hoping that she had something that would help her sleep. Instead she found a picture taken that summer on the fridge of her and Nora. They were sitting on lawn chairs in her backyard, each holding a bottle of water while balancing hamburgers on their laps and grinning at the camera with their arms around each other. She pulled the picture off the fridge and studied it the moonlight. Would they ever get this chance again, to just be sisters and sit in their backyard and eat slightly burnt hamburgers or would Nora spend the rest of her days locked in some god-forsaken cell for protecting her children? Did she do the right thing by not admitting her part in all of this? Whatif whatif whatif? All these questions and more bombarded Fiona's mind as she clutched the picture to her chest and sunk to the floor in heartbreaking sobs.

* * *

_AN: Song title: Thinking over by Dana Glover._

_Reviews, while not necessary, are always appreciated. hint_


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